


jesus was a carpenter

by heefies



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drug Use, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Enemies, Kissing, M/M, Neck Kissing, Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:13:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23464474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heefies/pseuds/heefies
Summary: "you just gotta fuck him and we’ll get his dad Mark, it’s not that hard."
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 23
Kudos: 99





	1. tears on the mausoleum floor.

**Author's Note:**

> ^-^ please tell me what you think!
> 
> [twt](https://mobile.twitter.com/subliqr)

13 June 2019

Mark despises his city. He despises its constant chaoticness, its utter disorder. Unwritten rules of precarious engagement that lead to extremely sensitive human beings convinced that settling down, having a family, a stable job, preferably fruitful, lucrative, completely unaware of the fact that they are indeed feeding a bigger beast, is in fact the best outcome. A beast that nobody can see, some can feel, others might be willingly not acknowledging its existence. Mark hates being part of it, being part of a bunch of hypocrites, he didn’t choose to coexist with. A society based on shallow ideals and beliefs. Beauty standards and what he calls real-life-hustlers.

Obviously there isn’t one only culprit to attack, mark would have killed him already. But he can’t kill child-minding technology, unfair politicians or an unstable community. He can’t kill machines and humans, both so reliant upon one another. 

Mark doesn’t sense better horizons, for himself not for sure, not for anyone else. Not for taeyong and jaehyun sitting comfortably on the ground a couple of feet from him, braiding johnny’s overgrown hair, whose future can’t be might brighter. Not for doyoung humming an old song he doesn’t know, he listens to weird stuff Mark can’t stand, not that he says this out loud, he accepts others’ tastes. He can’t see much better views for Yuta, whose desperate attempts at changing song are counterattacked by Taeil, that is vibing with it, whose future might be with Jungwoo, sprawled on his lap, but not that bright either.

He can see the future, not in a ball or through visions, but he’s sure there is something ahead, who can deny it? He just senses that his own is lost in layers and layers of shallow sentiments, wrapped in plastic and placed in the last piece of a matryoshka, in a locked bunker: impossible to reach. That’s the main reason he wants to die before he reaches thirty, before he hits misery lane. 

"if i don’t deck you first. " Johnny would say. 

Is there a point in spending hours on studying, years for a degree, to spend decades on a job you don’t even like for sake of a society you don’t even wanna be part of? We are mere slaves. He could pray, but he doesn’t even give a shit about god in the first place. What’s a god to a non believer? He doesn’t believe in himself, hell if he believes in someone else. He believes in money, money that can buy food not luxury. Money that can help you keep your head above water. And whoever said that money can’t buy happiness must have been loaded, and sexually frustrated, he might add. And he despises whoever said that ‘cause he has to fight for scraps, get in danger for food, be in trouble to exist. That’s why he really doesn’t want to exist at all. He likes easy tasks. 

But he doesn’t really despise this, as in being with the team, always orchestrating some devious plans to mess with some high class man with excessive income, living in a luxurious environment, surrounded by people as rich, but not richer, that could hurt his pride. Getting in their head is pretty simple, because when you get rich your defensive mechanism tends to get weaker. You don’t have to protect yourself from monsters, you’re basically one of them, a proud one he’d add. Mark most of all despises one of the most terrible category of rich beings, or wealthy they would say, which are politicians. He wishes he could say bullshit and then get paid for it. He often says that politic may be the the greatest paradox of modern-society: so you’re gonna tell me what’s right and what’s not? might as well teach me what ideals are but you seem to lack at that. Obviously men are sociable wolves, but Mark has always preferred to be the lonely one. He has found a pack, eventually.

"you just gotta fuck him and we’ll get his dad Mark, it’s not that hard."

Donghyuck is loaded, he’s rich, wealthy, he could phrase it in multiple different ways, but that wouldn’t change the amount of money his dad brings home. He’s okay with it, always have been. He thinks that his father deserves it, that he works hard all day and all night so might as well get rewarded. He is not that oblivious, he doesn’t question anything. He likes his pretty room, his designed clothes and expensive sneakers too much to question it. Being rich has its obvious benefits. 

His father always says that being rich isn’t being wealthy, because many people think that their meanings are pretty similar. The rich has lots of money, the wealthy doesn’t have to worry about money. They don’t have to worry about expenses, tuition, mortgage, car payment, food or credit cards. They’re not afraid of getting fired or losing money, that could be a scary thought for rich people, an obscene position. Those are in the Rat Race. The Rat Race is something you’re not proud of, it’s counterfeit living, it’s believing you’re rich, but worrying about being laid off, of failing, being miserable.

But being rich has its own -don’t scoff- thorny issues. The problem donghyuck faces the most is being judged. People often assume the worst about him. Because ‘all rich are the same’. He had to push away some gold diggers, clout chasers out of his life, not even interested in his money, but -be ready- his father. Everybody knows his father, he can’t say the same. 

Donghyuck has never faced real issues in his life, but he’s not well aware of that. And it’s not just that he’s oblivious or wants to be, he’s just afraid to find out what he shouldn’t know. So he focuses on shallow things and let the shallowness swallow him. 

"C’mon Donghyuck, it’s just eyeshadow you won’t get in trouble." 

The thing about parties is that Donghyuck has never been to a real one, on the hand, Mark hates them. Donghyuck is there to have fun, Mark knows he’s gonna be the cause of said fun. But they’re both there, with their own packs and insecurities. Donghyuck does his best to look confident, but not to stand out too much. Mark is tipsy and not so subtle when he eyes his prey from afar. Donghyuck is pretty, Mark is pleased. 

The atmosphere is quite intense for Donghyuck, not so used to people shamelessly making out, bodies grinding, loud music blasting through the stereo. His only security being his friends that surround him. He’s not hot, but he feels the heat coming from everywhere, and it’s not a comfortable heat, it’s more like something that pushes on his chest, the feeling of being caged or locked without much hair to breath. He blames the alcohol, but it doesn’t stop him from drinking more of the reddish liquid in his plastic cap. It’s sour, it burns in his throat, this isn’t comfortable either. He wonders how people can be comfortable doing this everytime, but when his brain tries to create a sensate answer, he feels something new. Something he has never experienced. Sipping elegantely some red wine with his father, just to prove that he’s now a man, doesn’t give the same buzz. He can feel his fingers going numb, he licks his lips nervously, but finds solely the after taste of what he has chugged. Jaemin says he’s just tipsy, that it happens after a couple of drinks. He can feel it in his bloodstream. He can feel when after more sips, how it starts affecting his brain, his body and movements. He finds himself staring at the bodies dancing, loosing coordination. He chuckles amused when his speech slurs and his vision changes, but he’s still conscious, he is able to carry a conversation, even though he doesn’t know what they’re laughing at anymore. He doesn’t feel nauseous. The buzz is now comfortable, a nice and soft thrill, the world spinnig at his expensive shoes. 

Mark waits for the right time to make a move, a sober rich is a mere rich, the boy could be bratty and petty, Mark can’t deal with that shit. Mark waits for an alcohol intoxicated rich, not defensive and looking for fun. Mark can be fun, he can entertain the boy until it’s so easy to scratch him with his claws. He’s a wolf, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t be approachable. He’s noticed how the boy has changed through the night: his back is no lonegr straight, he’s chin is not held high for composure, but to dance, he’s having fun. He’s not unconfortable anymore, Mark notices how relaxed he looks, almost like the rest of the teenagers there, but Mark knows his secret.

An hour through the party, Donghyuck is drunk, leaning his head and back on a wall, not being able to stand on his own feet without tripping anymore. Head fuzzy and lips wet and rosy from the strawberry vodka he has just chugged. His friends nowhere to be seen, Mark knows his pack is doing its job. Mark is confident when he approaches him, even more confident when he meets his drowsy eyes. Mark is sober at this point, Donghyuck’s cheeks are flushed red, making him look younger. Mark can distinguish what seem to be freckles on the bridge of his nose. The air is sticky like Donghyuck’s bangs on his forehead, Mark doesn’t mind. His hair resembles honey, it’s bright and it contrasts the color of his skin that Mark finds endearing. He looks bathed in the sun, so different from his own dark self. He’s wearing something tight and Mark feels forced to stare at his tighs. Mark can’t deny Donghyuck’s gorgeous. 

Donghyuck notices Mark and takes his time to swallow his appearence. Mark doesn’t look scary, he’s attractive wearing all black. Donghyuck may be intimidated, but attracted. His ear is pierced and from there he can look at the little pendant hanging there. He’s slendery, but has broad shoulders Donghyuck wants to touch. His black hair are half up and half on his forehead, he looks mature. His eyes, big and shiny make Donghyuck smirk.

"dance with me."

Donghyuck blinks once, then twice. It’s not a question, the dark haired boy in front of him is not asking. Donghycuk is torn between accepting and refusing his offer, blames the alcohol when he just hums and takes the hand the latter is giving him. Mark is pleased. 

Mark squeezes his hand while he guides him through sweaty people, and heated couple, towards the center of the room, to what seems to have become the dance floow, away from curious glances. He doesn’t think twice before placing both his hands on Donghyuck’s waist to make their hips meet, Donghyuck gasps at the sudden action. He goes near his ear and mumble low praises, Mark knows he likes to be praised, to which the younger replies with soft hums and putting his arms around the other boy’s neck, softly touching his nape. He doesn’t know where this boldness is coming from, but he’s glad he’s not just slightly inhebriated. He moves tentatively against Mark body, following the rhytm. His movements are provocative, caressing Mark with caring hands. 

They don’t know each other, yet they’re dancing close enough to feel their breaths and sound of their hearts through thin layers of clothes. They’re both pleased at this point. 

"i’m Haechan"

It’s the first time Mark hears the boy’s voice, and it’s peachy, soft; smooth against his neck. He can’t help but shiver at the sound. 

"Mark." 

Donghyuck bets Mark isn’t a talkative boy, but he likes it this way, flushed to his chest, caressing the base of his hair. 

"Mark."

He repeats it, savoring the sound of it inside his mouth. The sound of it and the touch of his plump lips on his exposed collarbones go straight to Mark’s nerves. And his dick. Mark wants to hear more, he wants to praise him just to hear his satisfacted hums.

Donghyuck on the other hand wants to see more, he wants to stare at the older’s gaze until he feels flustered, so he moves away slowly, much to Mark’s dismay and looks straight into his eyes. Donghyuck’s eyes are honey brown, they’re pretty big and Mark feels judged by a drunk, pretty and nastily rich boy. His mouth is closed in a pout, that Mark can’t help but glance at. Mark feels the tension, Donghyuck feels the warmth. Donghyuck takes minutes to engulf his face, nobody looks away. Mark’s eyes are even bigger than his owns, they’re bright, but not with happiness or the buzz of alocohol, they’re bright with malice. Donghyuck wished he could look deeper.

Mark is fast at recomposing himself, he prefers easy tasks, might as well make it happen. He looks down on Donghyuck, not feeling fear or tension, just focusing on his goal, not a mere pretty boy in front of him. He can sense the exact moment Donghyuck notices the change. Because his pout is gone, his eyes are even bigger and Mark knows he's struggling to keep his gaze on him. He seems scared, and that is not Mark’s goal. Mark feels torn between lulling Donghyuck with his gaze, low gazes, caressing his soft hips with his own hands, and the real task. The real task is brutal, too brutal for a boy that looks so pure and innocent between his arms. But he’s the enemy.

The latter uses his hands, still on the younger’s hip, to draw little circles. The other one slides towards the bottom of his back, to draw him even closer, if possible. If he can’t lully him, he can make him relax, pliant under his touch to trust him.

"are you scared?"

Donghyuck is visibly surprised by his words, but seems to relax himself sliding his hands to Mark’s torso then again towards his nape to caress him with sweet touch. He shakes his head, messing up his bangs. Mark takes advantage of the vicinity to move the hair from Donghyuck’s forehead, slightly wet from sweat. Donghyuck smiles, Mark is pleased. 

It’s the first time Donghyuck gets this close to a boy, and he enjoys the warmth the others’ chest his giving him. He enjoys how Mark’s breath is softly tickling his neck when he gets closer again. He enjoys particularly when Mark places his wet lips on his neck, and he can’t suppress a gasp that escapes his lips, followed by a content sigh. He closes his eyes and scrapes the older’s nape, when he gets even closer to start moving his lips on the chosen path of skin, that gets caressed, licked, bitten until the rosy shade turns into purple and Donghyuck can’t even feel his legs shaking. Mark is quick to grab his hips tighter in order to keep him still. Donghyuck feels him everywhere, not only wet on his neck, but hot on every inch of his skin. He’s tired and so intoxicated by the boy he feels the need of placing his head in the crook of his neck while the other is teasing him with his experienced mouth.

"should i be?"

Donghyuck manages to croak with airy voice, but Mark can feel and hear how much he’s affected by these mere touches. Mark can feel him becoming weaker in his arms right after placing his tongue flat on his tortured skin. At this point the younger’s only stability is the older’s neck, that hurts from leaning on the other boy, just slightly shorter than him. Mark lets his hands wander and travel on Donghyuck’s back, his movements are painfully slow, but smooth, and Donghyuck is excited, he has long ago entered a dizzy trance that doesn’t let him sober up. Donghyuck feels woozy. He wants more, he wants to feel him closer and warmer.

"you don’t have to trust me."

Words hot and slick on his sore neck, Donghyuck is tense again against Mark. Haechan hasn’t trusted anyone but his father for his entire life. His neck has never been kissed like this, with this fervor. He has never felt like this before, against a boy he doesn’t know, but doesn’t need to. Mark could tell him to run, that it’s just his job he's doing here, but he doesn’t pity the rich. Donghyuck is not someone to pity or to be fond of. He is the rich, the wrong. Mark makes sure to remind himself he’s not wrong for doing this, for courting and kissing a boy’s neck, ‘cause said boy shouldn’t be here in the first place. He should be home with his reckless father, under a spoiler shelter, eating unnecessary expensive food. But instead he’s in the middle of a sweaty crowd, sweaty himself, but not for dancing or jumping, but for the heat of the moment and warmth of vicinity. Neither of them says a word for what could be seconds or minutes, his stream of consciousness getting an halt only when he remembers his mouth is still on the boy, kissing his neck with even more fervor, overwhelming the other one that lets himself moan in Mark’s ear. Mark stops abruptly, because the honey voice moaning in his ear electrifies him and sends a thrill through his body that makes him look for the younger’s eyes. Donghyuck’s eyes are barely open when he meets his gaze. Mark’s eyes instead are getting darker, and Donghyuck’s can feel the tip of his ears flushing, he can feel himself on fire, getting undressed by big brown eyes a couple of inches far from him. 

"let’s get this somewhere else." 

Donghyuck’s eyes widen at Mark’s low voice, but Mark doesn’t recognize the other’s change of emotions because too busy getting a hold of his wrist and heading towards the stairs. Donghyuck misses the warmth and slick feeling of Mark’s tongue on his neck, now sore and cold. But he doesn’t whine, he doesn’t have the time to whine because he’s being dragged upstairs, he knows what that means but he cant help but being quiet and pliant under the other’s touch. 

Mark wanders through the corridors and multiple rooms, he looks like he knows his way. He walks confident and holds his wrist tighter, Donghyuck is entranced, he’s seduced, without even kissing him. Mark seems to have settled for a simple room, a double bed in the middle of it that sends chills throughout Donghyuck’s whole body, Mark doesn’t seem to notice. He just moves Donghyuck closer towards him and the bed behind him. He looks at him, big round glassy eyes shaking by the sudden change. They’re alone now, Donghyuck could forget his father and his fears, Mark could forget his goal and ideals, but only one of them complies. 

Mark sits down on one edge of the bed, the younger is still standing in front of him, he stares at him and Mark tilts his head with appraising eyes. He dares touch his hands, a mere touch that sends Donghyuck into a more relaxed state. 

Mark has to get his trust, not his virginity straight away. 

After getting a hold of both his hands, he guides them on his shoulders, Donghyuck gets closer caressing Mark’s hair behind his neck. He’s not afraid of Mark, he’s just new to this and the possibility of fucking up are high in his head. But Mark doesn’t care about being careful and understanding, he’s acting to get slowly into his pants and wallet, he doesn’t have responsibilities, just a plan. His hands go slowly where they belong to, the younger’s hips are inviting to Mark, now inches away from them, he could get closer and unzip his pants in seconds, but it’s not the right time and he blames his wild thoughts. He slides one hand first, on the back of Donghyuck’s thigh, to the back of his knee, in order to push it and make the boy place said knee near his own thigh, on the white sheets. He does the same, folding the other knee

“c’mere”

Donghyuck’s breath itches when he finds himself seated on the other’s lap, now even closer than before. He isn’t aware of his own accelerated heart beat, he just can feel the other gaze, it’s been minutes now, and his head doesn’t register the muffled music anymore, or the cheers and the pale color of the moon outside, just the body under him, the face in front of him, staring at him, giving him his complete attention, looking at his lips, at his bruised neck, at his eyes.  
Donghyuck is daring, he feels bold when tucking his bottom lips between his teeth he reaches for the other’s jacket to make it slide slowly off his broad shoulders. His breath is uneven and he feels Mark staring at him while he progresses with his task. Mark helps him, until the jacket is on the other edge of the bed, and Mark’s milky arms are exposed, his pale hands on his hips once again. Donghyuck takes a moment to caress his arms, without looking back at him, still too nervous to aknowledge his gaze. His arms are soft, like his hands that haechan has touched, and his nape that haechan has caressed. So soft that Donghyuck hums content touching them. Mark likes his daring but soft touches. 

When their eyes meet again, Donghyuck feels relaxed, he’s not thinking about nothing else, but being bold tonight therefore he doesn’t think twice before grinding on Mark’s lap, earning an involuntary low growl, to put one hand on his neck, and the other on the older’s own hand. He takes a long breath before making his lips touch the pale neck of the boy under him. Their chest are not flushed together, he can’t feel the other’s heart beating, but placing his lips on his jugular, he can feel it racing. Donghyuck tries with tentative kiss, using his tongue and teeth to tease the older that just slides his hands on the other's ass, enough to squeeze it and pulling him as closer as possible. Donghyuck is going insane at the touch, he likes his hands on his body, and perceives the sudden movement as a message to keep on doing what he wants to, that the other was enjoying his boldness. Donghyuck is much more aggressive now, he sucks harder on the skin he chose, he uses his teeth with fervor, he licks it again when he feels Mark moving under him. 

Mark has now both hands on his ass and squeezes again to tease a reaction, that he earns in the form of a low moan that sounds so masculine and so sexy to Mark’s ears. With a tentative touch he dares to move the younger’s loose shirt tucked in his jeans, to touch his warm silky skin, he wants to feel more. And he’s so satisfied when Donghyuck closes his eyes relaxing under his touch. It makes Mark braver, it makes Mark want to touch more.

"You know I saw you, staring at me, earlier." 

He sounds amused moving again to meet his neck, near his ear to tickle his lobe with his teeth. Metal cold against his tongue. Mark can feel the ghost of a smile when the other caresses him with his own lips. Donghyuck leaves the crook of his neck to look at the other’s eyes, they both sobered up at the point that both can hear the low bass of an Arctic Monkeys’ song that they both know from downstairs.

"I thought you’d never come." 

He pouts again and Mark glances at his lips. They’re full, not like his own. They’re even redder than before, but he knows that this time alcohol isn’t the cause of such redness. It’s not an easy task to look away from them. Shiny under the faint light of the room.

"I like your shirt." 

It’s sudden and Mark has to glance back at his own torso to remember what he’s wearing. They’re not that different after all. 

"You like Led Zeppelin?" 

Donghyuck doesn’t reply, he looks up on the ceiling moving his hands on Mark nape again, before starting to hum a song Mark doesn’t recognize at first. And his voice is so soft and honey like, inch away from his lips, and Mark is a sucker for music and he forgets his task for a mere second when he places his lips on the younger’s plump ones. It’s just a simple touch at first, and Donghyuck is tense again, so Mark touches his back with soft hands. The kiss is slow, Mark takes his time to tease, to teach the inexperienced one with his lips. He licks the other’s barely open slicky lips. He takes his time to travel on his upper lip, his arched cupid bow, then back to the bottom one, softer, plumpier. Then he bites, but bites slowly and softly, he doesn’t have to hurry, he doesn’t want to. He travels on the same path, but with his teeth. Donghyuck wants to lick too, he wants to bite the older’s lips until they bleed. He’s tired of being teased, and he whines taking the boy’s face in his own hands to take the lead. Lips slotted together, their heads tilted at the right angle to connect their mouths. It’s warm, Donghyuck loves it. When Mark opens his mouth, he finds Donghyuck ready to meet his tongue in the middle, unexperienced, but bold to take the lead and show how brave he can get. And although Donghyuck doesn’t know what he's doing, he enjoys how Mark’s tongue is flaming hot and wet against his own. He sighs completely inebriated by the other’s presence and smooth movements. The only sound in the room is the sound of their tongues running after one another, and Donghyuck feels extremely flustered running his hands through Mark’s dark hair. He inhales deeply through his nose while Mark takes the lead again and pushes their mouths impossibly closer with a hand on the back of his head. Teeth are clashing, but none of them seems to care when Donghyuck finally bites Mark’s bottom lip and the other sighs. He breaks the kiss only to leave a few pecks, like he doesn’t want to end it yet. 

Mark forgot his task.

Donghyuck skeptically moves away with shaky hands, he doesn’t dare looking at the other’s eyes again for a couple of seconds, while he regains his breath. He just places his head on the older's shoulder, heavy and intoxicated. They’re both quiet for a while, relaxed by each other’s presence. It’s sweet, Mark doesn’t like it sweet. He speaks with voice so soft Mark curses his own plan.

"can you take me home, Mark?"

Mark despises hard tasks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://mobile.twitter.com/subliqr)


	2. blood stains on the colosseum doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize for eventual mistakes, i have no beta-reader at the moment, so if anyone is up for this task i'll leave my twt @ at the end. （＾＿＾）

17 October 2019

  
During the great Roman Era, dreams played a prominent role in everyday life. Some decisions were taken with the help of dreams, the message behind them. Dreams don’t represent reality, they display it in a contorted and twisted way. They were believed to be messages from the gods, from above, something divine, a personal chosen gift, never random.

The real definition of dream is a strongly desired goal or purpose, mostly displayed through images and sensations. Everybody dreams, and Mark doesn’t find it odd, but he wishes he wasn’t able.  
Mark dreams about snow, candid and white in his soft hands. But more specifically the sensation of running his hands through it. He can feel the cold feeling at the tip of his fingers irradiating until it hits his senses, it makes him shiver. The chills reach his smile, and the ends of his lips are twisted in a real state of pure joy, happiness. Mark has always liked coldness, the chilly hair though his hair. The cold wind that slips though his jacket and the holes of his jeans, it hits his ankles and all that Mark can feel is contentment.

The snow in Vancouver is different, or maybe Mark is the only one that think this way. He remembers his feet sanking under inches of snow, crunching slightly at his every movements. He rememebrs puffy gloves and beanies, damp, after a snow-day. Muscles sore and headache, but not an unconfortable lassitude.

Mark thinks of snow when he’s still conscious, when he still can move his limbs and smile softly at the idea of being able oto go back. He dreams of snow when he’s still able of waking up if he wants to, because he’s still able to control.

But when the exhaustion of his day hits, and his mind is blank. When everything cannot be controlled and he feels heavy, light-headed under the white sheets. When he lets himself slip into the caring arms of Morpheus, everything changes, and the joy is replaced by fear.

When dreaming, the control of images and sensations is no longer in our hands. We project memories and bits of the past that we thought we had completely forgotten. The unconsciousness leads to past, daily and fictitious experiences, mixing them in an imaginary world where we remember, we create and we predict. What we create is not always what we want, sometimes it’s what we fear, what we avoid during day time. That’s called a nightmare.

It happens when we enter deeper, chest falling and raising with a new rhythm, eyelids completely shut, and we’re confortable. Then real dreams are projected, when the panic exceeds the desire. Traumas can cause nightmares, long lasting ones. It can start nicely and slowly drift into something unpleasant. And we let the smoke surround us until we have the urge to give up and surrend, not able to breathe properly anymore.

That’s when Mark feels alone, and he knows he’s alone because he can hear no sounds or even emit any. It happens unexpectedly, but he knows he has to run, for his life and the life of others. The Mark laying on his bed is breathing faster, and he’s frowning for the fatigue.

The Mark in his dream stops abrubtly, something in his chest tells him that it’s too late and that running won’t save him, but his feet hurt, he’s tired and he wants to rest. The dark is now being replaced by a warm light and he’s not in the same empty streat anymore. There is water, and Mark feels guilty, is this culpability rational or figment of his imagination? It’s unfamiliar, he doesn’t like it.  
The Mark laying on his bed has wet cheeks and he wants to wake up. He can, if he wants to, he’s too tired to let the feeling swallow him again like he’s not human, like he doesn’t have feelings and his existence has to stop there and then. The fear is so intense that the Mark in his dreaming forgets how to breathe, and the one laying on his back opens his eyes, crying in relief.  
It’s said that 90% of our dreams are forgotten seconds after we dream of it, and Mark is relieved, he prefers reality, with limits and laws. Deep in the static feeling of impotence.

-

Mark gets up abruptly from his own bed. He’s drenched in sweat and he’s hair is so sticky against his forehead that he feels the need of brushing them off to feel better. His breath is erratic and his chest hurts under the thin stratum of his white shirt. His hands are shaking again when he tries to raise them, but they feel so heavy that they fall back on the sheets, at each side of his thighs. His heart is speeding so fast he can hear it in his throat and it’s unconfortable, he feels uneasy. Head light and short breath, he tries to take off his clothes and manages after multiple attempts. His head is pounding and his limbs are numb, but tingling.

It’s always the same dream, not a real one, just what he remembers of it. Only bits, memories, brief and so intense that leave him drained. Smiles, warm glances, soft touches, hugs, then screams, dried blood, pain, tension and anger. Or maybe those are just memories.

It’s tiring to move his limbs out of the sheets. When his naked feet meet the cold pavement Mark shivers, it’s getting colder, but Mark likes it cold. He leaves his bed and checks his reflection on the stained mirror on the wall. He stares at his mirrored self and he looks tired, worn out. He hasn’t had a proper meal in weeks and his cheeks are hollow, his cheekbones so high that he doesn’t recognise himself. Hair messy, dishevelled, he must have moved a lot during the night. But what attracts his attention more are his tears stained cheeks.  
He swipes the wetness away with the back of his hand frowning.

He doesn’t make a big deal out of it in order to listen to his stomac growling. Everyone should be asleep in the house and he prefers when the house is quiet and he can hear his own thoughts, even though he likes company sometimes, because he hates when his thoughts become too loud to bear.

The pavement squeaks under his feet and it seems like nobody noticed the icy wind coming from outside because the heaters are turned off, he sighs. Living with solely boys is indeed challenging, being a boy himself. But he likes the warmth of not being alone, he feels more human.

When he reaches the kitchen, the lights aren’t off and someone is shuffling things inside the fridge.

Late night snacks seeker.

He can’t see who the noisy perp is from where he’s standing, but the person concerned seems to have found what he was looking for, because Mark hears a content gasp and then a face pops out from its hiding. Taeyong is holding a can of coke and some dry sausages, but drop everything to the floor when he spots Mark, the latter chuckles.

“Dude, don’t do that ever again.”

He collects his things muttering some profanities to which Mark scoffs feeling attacked directly. When the other boy, not kneeling anymore, eyes him with care, Mark feels naked. Taeyong has a piercing gaze that has always made him feel weaker, to the point of looking away. But he has learnt to hold the other’s gaze until he’s not the one intimidated anymore.

“Were you crying? What happened?”

He’s worried, Mark can see it from the lines that appear on his forehead. Lines that appear everytime Mark skips meal or snaps at one of the boys. His eyes are fatherly, Mark has to look away and refrain from rolling his eyes at the back of his head in annoyance.

“I’m fine.”

Taeyong doesn’t believe him, he doesn’t need to, but he avoids asking more. He knows Mark well enough to know he’s in a bad mood.

“you’d better sleep, tomorrow will be a long day.”

Everyday is a long day for Mark, even nights aren’t that nice.

-

Mark applied for college after his last year of highschool, he knows every professional has a plan b, or an alibi, just in case. That’s what he says to others. Bounty hunter in his free time, yet he looks just like the average college boy during work days.

The truth is that Mark has always liked studying, not as in reading and memorizing useless facts, but as in learning about the world, the body, the mind.

He’s always been diligent during his high school years, when everything looked different because he was blind, methaphorically speaking, he just couldn’t see reality properly, he was stuck in his own dreamland.  
He goes to college because he believes that culture is at the base of life. Or at least his lifestyle. Without knowledge he wouldn’t have personal ideals. He believes that culture enhances the quality of human beings. Culture benefits society, but also himself. He can imagine the future through culture, because everything happens at least twice, it’s a fact. You need culture when you have enemies. It helps predict the next move, to be prepared. Better safe than sorry.

It’s also fun to see things through the eyes and mind of others. It’s deeply personal. The human world amazes and disgusts him.

Being so nihilistic, however, makes him think that what he’s learning can distract him. Hence nobody knows the real reason why Mark goes to college, apart from the alibi theory, he’s full of secrets, but the other boys don’t ask a lot of questions anymore, and he’s glad.

When he got in, it wasn’t that big of a deal because he was sure someone would have knocked him off before the beginning of classes. His lifestyle is hectic.

Most of all he knows it’s duty since nothing is free for people like him. People like him can’t afford being lazy. Ironically, life is much more expensive for people like Mark, that’s why he had to work hard in high school, in order to get a good scholarship and apply for good colleges in Seoul. He had known that the hard work had paid off when all the colleges he had applied to, accepted him, and for a moment he had believed in himself.

But eventually he came back to reality, he chose one of the best, but not the top. His horizons are pretty limited, exceeding isn’t always the best option. He doesn’t have high hopes, having hopes is already bold for him.

Mark also knows that to get into the rich minds, he has to learn about their lifestyles, becoming an undercover parasite inside their corrupted heads.

He’s not the only one who thinks the same, technically the younger ones of the pack all attend the same university. Jungwoo and Jaehyun in the law department, Lucas with Xiaojun both in that economics and business shit, but different branches, plus Taeil in his master’s med degree. The pack not only needs brains, but variety, the rest of them having already graduated or working part-time to keep a low profile, blend in.

They did a good job so far.

Mark struggled a lot choosing his path, but eventually chose a physics-based one, theoretical and mathematical are the ones he’s better at. He’s not a total nerd, he’d say. The truth is that his only purpose was getting in one of the astrology’s courses, he knows astrology is a pretty abused subject. Scientific fields can open multiples different routes if he decides, one day, to drop out of this mess.

He didn’t think about the pack when he chose, he decided according to his tastes, because it doesn’t happen often, to his dismay.

-

Mark is exactly in his college’s cafeteria when he meets Donghyuck again, but he doesn’t realize at first, the younger spots him first.

Donghyuck is sitting in one of the circular tables occupied by noisy students. He’s not alone, Jaemin and Jeno are whispering something to each other. Renjun is trying to explain something about his pharmacy class, but Yangyang isn’t exactly that interested by the look of it, he looks extremely confused and Donghyuck is sure he had gave up when Renjun mentioned the first formula. Hendery and Winwin are talking about some new addictional mandatory classes that they didn’t know they had to attend, but they stop when they spot Kun and Ten approaching their table, to sit with them.  
Donghyuck scoots over until his thigh bumps with Hendery’s one and Ten he’s now sitting on his left, he looks pretty when he smiles softly to him, and Donghyuck does the same, coming out of his daze, he has always looked up and admired him.

“So, dear freshmen, new meat, juicy virgins, my fellow padawans; how are classes going?”

Kun elbows Ten hearing his words.

“Who says i’m a virgin?” Yangyang has no shame.

Donghyuck and the others laugh out loud at his innocent straightforwardness.

“See, Ten? You started this!” Kun whines, but he’s chuckling too.

Kun has always been the one who had looked after them the most, and Donghyuck knows how he must be feeling seeing them all as freshmen, going through what he had to go through too, years ago. He knows he only means the best. This doesn’t mean that Ten is trying to bring them to a wrong path, he’s just different, but he cares the same amount.

Donghyuck zones out again to look at his surroundings, the place is packed with students and he likes the noise. High school years weren’t like this, it was too quiet compared to this. The truth is that he never had ‘high school years’, all the years until now are just a mere and distant memory. He never attended high school, or middle school, any types of school for what counts.  
He’s a total home-schooled boy, he doesn’t remember a lot of his earlier years because they look so uselessly spent compared to college. No social life, or friends, apart from the ones he already had since he was a baby, or hobbies. Everything was done to accomodate his father’s wishes, but he has never seen his father proud of him. Donghyuck only remembers the static boredom of it all, and he swears to himself that college years will be his years.

Something, or better, someone makes him snap out of his internal monologue. This someone has black hair, it’s not styled and they look soft on his forehead, his bangs covering his eyes until he moves them slowly with his pale hands. His skin is so white Donghyuck wonders when it’s the last time it touched the sun. His mouth is closed in a pout while someone tries to get his attention by pinching his forearm. Donghyuck is focused on his eyes when the concerned boy seems to notice the persistent stare, and their eyes lock.

_Mark’s eyes are even bigger than his owns, they’re bright, but not with happiness or the buzz of alocohol, they’re bright with malice. Donghyuck wished he could look deeper._  
_The latter uses his hands, still on the younger’s hip, to draw little circles. The other one slides towards the bottom of his back, to draw him even closer, if possible. If he can’t lully him, he can make him relax, pliant under his touch to trust him._  
_It’s the first time Donghyuck gets this close to a boy, and he enjoys the warmth the others’ chest his giving him. He enjoys how Mark’s breath is softly tickling his neck when he gets closer again. He enjoys particularly when Mark places his wet lips on his neck, and he can’t suppress a gasp that escapes his lips, followed by a content sigh. He closes his eyes and scrapes the older’s nape, when he gets even closer to start moving his lips on the chosen path of skin, that gets caressed, licked, bitten until the rosy shade turns into purple and Donghyuck can’t even feel his legs shaking._  
_He places his lips on the younger’s plump ones. It’s just a simple touch at first, and Donghyuck is tense again, so Mark touches his back with soft hands. The kiss is slow, Mark takes his time to tease, to teach the inexperienced one with his lips._

Donghyuck’s eyes widen while a smirk is slowly spreading on the other’s face, he nods slightly. He looks aways so fast that he bumps his elbow into ten’s. He’s blushing so hard that he can feel his face flaming hot, the tips of his ears warming up and his cheeks collecting all the red cells in his body. He nodded. Donghyuck can’t believe this is happening.  
Donghyuck hides his faces in his palms, trying to cover the upcoming heat. Until someone notices, and obviously it had to be Ten.

“Are you alright, kid?”

He doesn’t sound that worried, more amused because he can see the prominent pinky shade of his ears when Donghyuck pulls his hands away to nod. At this point he has a full smirk displayed on his handsome face and Donghyuck prays him with his eyes to just drop it and mind his business. But Ten has other plans.

“Donghyuck has a crush.”

Donghyuck whines loudly and shamefully hides his face again, Ten is voluntarily childish, that’s how he has fun.

There’s a loud mix of ‘who?’, ‘what?’, and some gasps, there is one only sigh and he guesses it’s from Kun.

“it’s not true.” Donghyuck laments trying to recompose himself. “I like nobody.”

“Sure, then why do you look like a jalapenos?

Or spiderman, with his suit on? No wait, you look like an avatar”

“Dude, avatars were blue.”

Everybody laughs and Donghyuck glares at Ten until the older laughs again trying to hold the gaze.

He turns to Renjun, who’s wearing a questioning look. After that happened, Donghyuck decided to keep it a secret, he was afraid of their judgement, Renjun can be harsh. But now he feels guilty, because Renjun is his bestfriend and he trusts him. He mouths an ‘I’m sorry’ before lowering his head again in shame and a bit of regret.

“Hyuck, who’s the lucky boy?”

It’s Jaemin who’s asking, still glued to Jeno’s side. His tone is amused, but he can tell from his eyes that he’s worried too, because Donghyuck always tells them the truth.

“just a boy.”

“just a boy?”

“yeah just a boy, Jaemin.”

Donghyuck is annoyed, his tone harsh. Only thinking about telling them the whole story, scares him.

“and he’s here, right?” Ten adds. “because he was just looking that way, and started blushing out of nowhere, i thought you were choking on the vanilla pudding, which i don’t think it’s physically possible.”

Donghyuck smiles, Ten is a pain in the ass, but he’s the one who understands him the most out of his friends.

He manages to nod, embarassed, and now everybody is scanning the room trying to find the boy that looks the most like Donghyuck’s style. But nobody knows Donghyuck’s style, because he has never dated or had a crush before, apart from Renjun when they first met. Funny story.

‘c’mon, tell us where he is seated without looking at him, only one of us will turn his way, to be subtle –Renjun glares at the other- Ten will do it, because he knows everybody here, okay?”

Donghyuck sighs then nods, he doesn’t want to make Renjun sad again.

“Two tables behind you guys, black hair, he’s wearing a green hoodie, he has an earring or something.” He doesn’t have to look back at him to remember how he looked, and that’s what worries Donghyuck the most.

Just as he finishes and nods to give Ten the green light, everybody turns his way and Donghyuck groans – “you’ve got to be kidding me.” He nodded.  
Even renjun who spoke about discretion is now looking at the boy, but Donghyuck refuses to meet his gaze again and embarass himself twice. But god seems to have different plan, because he can hear boys laughing and the rest of his friends focusing on their food again: he did embarass himself twice, and it’s not even his fault.

“I knew I coulndn’t trust y’all, even you Renjun.” Donghyuck pretends to be hurt placing one hand on his chest. He’s just trying to calm the blush.

But something is off, Ten and Kun are eyeing each other. Winwin and Hendery are looking at him, no sign of amusement on their faces.

“Mark?” It’s Sicheng who’s talking now, and they’re not that confortable with each other, he intimidates him. Donghyuck nods, frowning. Then the older looks back at Ten who’s now avoiding everybody’s eyes, careful.

“Do you guys know each other?”

Donghyuck is torn betweet lying and tell them the whole story, he chooses what he finds wiser.

“No.”

Donghyuck has never been wise, or careful.

“Then keep it this way, trust me.” He has never seen Ten this serious before.

-

“Damn, did y’all see their stupid faces when we caught them?”

The whole pack is laughing right now, even Mark can’t help but chuckle at the thought of their comic reaction. It was like watching rats being caught stealing food from a big cat, or a pack of wolves in this case.  
The best reaction, that only Mark caught, was Donghyuck’s one when he spotted him first. Mark can’t lie and say that he wasn’t surprised to see him. He looked completely different from the last time.

_Lips wet and rosy from the strawberry vodka he has just chugged. Cheeks flushed red, he looks younger. Mark can distinguish what seem to be freckles on the bridge of his nose. The air is sticky like Donghyuck’s bangs on his forehead, Mark doesn’t mind. His hair resembles honey, it’s bright and it contrasts the color of his skin that Mark finds endearing. He looks bathed in the sun._  
_He repeats Mark’s name after him, savoring the sound of it inside his mouth. The sound of it and the touch of his plump lips on his exposed collarbones go straight to Mark’s nerves. And his dick. Mark wants to hear more, he wants to praise him just to hear his satisfacted hums._  
_He doesn’t think twice before grinding on Mark’s lap, earning an involuntary low growl._  
_When Mark opens his mouth, he finds Donghyuck ready to meet his tongue in the middle, unexperienced, but bold to take the lead and show how brave he can get._

“right, Mark?”

“huh?”

When Mark comes back to earth he finds Lucas looking at him, worried lines on his forehead.

“you weren’t listening, have you been smoking again?” He wishes he had.

He doesn’t reply, he chuckles instead, mumbling a ‘sorry’ while he shifts on the concrete and unconfortable stairs they’re sitting on. There’s only him and Lucas at this point, and he can’t understand how he didn’t notice them leaving.

“He was there, right? The boy from this summer, he’s his son, right?”

Lucas is too curious, inquisitive, he can’t stand being into the unknown. Lucas is also very smart, even smarter than Mark himself most of the times. Mostly because he’s logical, a calculated boy. And when Mark doesn’t reply again, he has already all the answers he needed.

“You know you’ll have to tell them eventually, right?”

He’s judging now, because his tone is lower, he lowered himself to look right into Mark’s lost eyes. He’s extremely taller than him, and sometimes can be intimidating, but Mark knows the real Lucas, not the one everybody knows, and has no reasons to be intimidated at all, not when he owns him so much. Mark rolls his eyes at him before standing up in front of him.

“And I’ll tell them, eventually.”

Mark doesn’t want to fight, and Lucas doesn’t want it either ‘cause he sighs and drops his gaze. Mark is relieved, but his mouth has a brain of his own.

“I just need time, and you are no snitch.”

He says it with more anger than he inteded it, he notices only when Lucas looks back at him with a worried look, but he nods. They drop the subject there.

-

Donghyuck curses himself for being so slow and distract all the time, he has embarassed himself too many times to count on two hands today. He’s arrived late to two of his classes, got the wrong pitch during his singing lesson, almost fell in front of some seniors and most importantly, he met Mark. His heart is still pounding in his chest at the thought, and he swears that if he blushes again he will faint.  
He thinks back at the words Ten told him before leaving the cafeteria for his dance class. He doesn’t know how to deal with them, because he doesn’t know how to deal with the boy himself if they meet again. And they will meet again, it’s sure. Against all the odds he’s the one more surprised to have found him here. Mark didn’t look like someone from there types of school, but Donghyuck knows it’s too late to judge now.They will meet again because the school is not that big and he’s surprised it took them so much time to meet each other there, having started the semester about two weeks prior.  
He prays for the last hours on campus to be peaceful, and luckily his last classes pass in a heartbeat when he’s too distract to keep track of what his professor is saying and to write down his notes, he will ask Renjun later, they share most of their classes.

Mister Park dismisses the class warning them about the upcoming project, he will ask Renjun about that too. Donghyuck leaves quickly, dropping everything in his backpack, eager to go back home and think back to what happened without feeling Ten’s eyes on him.

But he knows it’s too late to runaway when, out of his class, there’s someone waiting for him. He knows he’s waiting for him because he shouldn’t be there at all, he’s never been around the music department or else he would have noticed him earlier. Also it’s pretty obvious, because he’s leaning on the opposite wall with his shoulder and he’s looking directly at Donghyuck, a shameless stare, just like during lunch, or more like an annoying grin now.  
Donghyuck does his best to blend in, avoid his lingering gaze, but he can’t escape the flow of students around him, pushing him right towards him. Not that he can choose another way, there are no more exits, he’s caged.

He lowers his head, sighing deeply, Mark won this time.

It’s a sudden move, the older grabs his wrist when he’s closer, and starts walking away from the rest of the teenagers, luckier than Donghyuck, because they got to go home, while he’s stuck with the only boy he’s kissed, almost four months before, during his first night out, drunk. A boy he didn’t talk anyone else about, only his subconscio, even his mind scolded him afterwards. A boy that his friends don’t trust, and he has swore to avoid just hours prior.

They don’t walk for long, Mark just wants privacy, he understands him. He can’t stand curious glances either. They stop around the corner, and they’re outside, alone again, just like the first time. So much time has passed, but he remembers the feeling of being alone with the black haired boy, he remembers the anxious feeling creeping out on his back through chills. He’s too embarassed to revive the memories of his hands on his hips, his tongue on his neck and their lips attached, now that he’s in front of him.

They stopped walking at least a minute ago, but for Donghyuck it feels like hours. Mark is leaning on the wall behind him, Donghyuck can feel his eyes on him. The younger has his head lowered, looking at his shoes in the vain attempt to avoid the guy’s gaze, or anything he wants to ask. But eventually his curiosity wins over his fear. His insticts make him turn his head up, to meet the older’s stare. To lock their eyes once again.

Donghyuck finds the other already staring, like he thought. The younger boy doesn’t know how to act when none of them opens their mouth to speak, the only difference is that Mark, in front of him, doesn’t look intimidated at all, or nervous. He’s smirking, amused by Donghyuck’s reaction.

They’re not close, but Donghyuck feels the same warmth coming out of him, lulling him in a daze. His eyes so dark that Donghyuck had tried to deciphre that night, but the alcohol didn’t allow him to. The boy makes him feel small, yet so protected that he thinks that Ten was talking about another boy for a second. There’s no way the boy in front of him can be dangerous, only looking at him makes him squirm in anxiety, but also relax quickly afterwards almost like he knows Mark is different from all the people he has always been surrounded.

The younger doesn’t even know what to do with his hands, he scratches his own nape, he fixes his hair quickly, ruffling his bangs that become messy right after, heplays with the hem of his red hoodie, he feels stupid. But Mark’s eyes seem to follow every holy moves, so he optes for hiding his own hands into the holes of his hoodie, so that Mark’s eyes go back to his own eyes.

“Haechan, right?”

His voice is exactly how Donghyuck remembers it, saying his nickname with a low tone. He nods quickly, he wants this over fast.

“Do you remember my name?”  
And what kind of questioni is that? Donghyuck is frowning because he remembers moaning that name a couple of times in the older’s ear. Mark is teasing him and Donghyuck finds it annoying, but decides to nod again nonetheless.

Then Mark raises his eyebrow like he wants him to say it again, like he enjoys seeing the other struggling.

“I know your name, Mark.”

The older seems pleased by the response, because he’s smirking again, and Donghyuck has the urge to kick him just to make him frown, so that his smirk would just disappear. Mark is not even moving, yet Donghyuck can feel him too close now.

They’re not even a meter apart, Donghyuck in front of him, holding tight the straps of his bag on his shoulders. It would only take him a single move to touch him again, to have him close like that night, when he was sitting on him and the other was hugging his torso possessively. An allarm is ringing in his head warning him to stay away before it’s too late to withdraw. He can feel Ten’s words in his head telling him to mind his own business, because the boy can only cause issues and troubles, but he can also feel the tingling in his fingers, that want to touch his face and trace his strong arms again, milky and smooth under his fingers when he undressed him with bold moves.

“My friend told me to stay away from you.”

The only words that came out of his own mouth surprise him. Mark is also surprised because now both of his eyebrows are raised and he’s still smiling, like he knows what he’s talking about.

“And you’re not gonna disobey, am i right? You don’t want to disappoint him, huh?”

He’s tone is challenging and it sends shivers down his spine, Donghyuck blames the cold, he’s convinced that the boy doesn’t affect him that much when they’re not even touching each others. But he can’t reply, he doesn’t trust his own mouth, so he bites the inside of his cheek to refrain himself.

“There’s a party on Saturday, not like the one we met at, it’s just me and the boys. Your friends are not going to be there, maybe you want to swing by, or not. No pressure, obviously. That friend of yours wouldn’t want you there.”

Donghyuck wants to reply, but the other seems to know the answer already because he doesn’t wait for one. He’s leaving his place by the wall to get closer to the younger. Now he can see his eyes like the first time.

“It’s up to you, remember.”

He leaves without waiting for a reply, again, and Donghyuck is left speechless and annoyed in his spot.

When he goes back to where he left Renjun, a confused and annoyed Renjun, he’s still there waiting for him, looking for answers. His eyebrows are furrowed in a frown, he’s angry at this point. Donghyuck tilts his head looking at him, he can’t be angry at him for more than an hour, but this time he genuinely fears for his life.

“I can explain.”

He doesn’t have the time to end his sentence because Renjun is already rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling. A smile that relieves Donghyuck. He can always trust Renjun, even though sometimes his harsh words can hurt him, he’s still so weak that thinking about bearing Mark’s antics of teasing him, he knows he has to do something about it. He wants to win, what’s the point of playing if you can’t win?

“Yes, you will explain, in front of ice cream, that you will pay for me, because I know this story is gonna be long and I’m asking for details.”

-

That night Mark doesn’t dream of snow, he dreams of the sun, hot and pleasing on his skin, for the first time after years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think ^_^
> 
> [twt](https://mobile.twitter.com/subliqr)


	3. lies on the lips of a priest.

17 October 2019

“So let me get this straight –Renjun gets confortable on his chair, frowning- you made out with a boy you had just met, on your first night out with us, the first time you got seriously drunk, and the concerned boy is hot, and i’d like to add, as fuck. And you didn’t tell me?”

Donghyuck whines feeling his cheeks getting warm once again, Renjun is trustworthy, there is no doubt, but speaking about this, out loud, with somebody that is not his own mind, makes him feel nervous, but relieved. He feels like an enormous rock just got removed from his shoulders, he can breath properly.

“This feels pretty platonic to me, i mean the whole ‘he’s dangerous’ thing. You could be the new Hawkeye and Black Widow, oh no wait I think she chooses Hulk at the end. What about Jake and Rose? He’s the misterious poor guy who made the rich girl fall in love with him at firs- oh wait a minute Jack fucking dies, let me think…

Renjun can be silly from time to time, Donghyuck is no longer listening at this point.

_13 June 2019_

_“So there’s this party.”_

_Donghyuck is looking at Renjun with an amused face, he has never been to a party and he isn’t even planning to go to one. It’s not that he doesn’t want to experience what normal boys his age would, like go to parties, have fun, get drunk, it’s just that he shouldn’t. Renjun, Jaemin and Jeno do that almost everyweek since all of them turned eighteen, actually even before, when Jeno got his license. They used to ask him out everytime, even beg him to go with them and have some healthy fun, at first, but since Donghyuck refused everytime, they stopped. They still hang out sometimes on Friday nights, but Donghyuck feels guilty, because he knows they’re missing the oh-so-waited umpteenth party he can’t go to, to stay inside and watch some avengers’ movie, just for him._

_Things have always been like this, Donghyuck doesn’t complain, even though he wonders how life would be if he wasn’t so to-be-protected and precious in his parents’ heads. Going to school with Jaemin, Jeno, Renjun and youngsters Chenle and Jisung, hanging out with them all the time, drinking alcohol and smoking weed like Jeno’s weird friends._

_“You already know the answer, Renjun.” His tone is a little harsh, but Donghyuck isn’t annoyed at all, he just wants to blend the fact that, yes he wants to go, but he can’t, why the fuck are you bringing this up now?_

_They’re hanging out at Donghyuck’s house right now, the only place, apart from school, where they can hang out all together without the latter missing. Donghyuck is alone very often and his house is pretty big, they can have fun so that Donghyuck can make out about the fact that they’re stuck inside because of him._

_The others are playing with his father’s billiard, and he hopes they’re not staining it. Him and Renjun are preparing drinks and snacks for their movies session._

_“Let me finish, would you?” He looks serious, he wouldn’t lie to Donghyuck. Mostly about this, he knows how much Donghyuck would love to go out with them and how speaking about it makes him feel. So he just nods, giving him the green light to go on with what he was talking._

_“So, there is this party, tomorrow. I know your father wouldn’t let you come, but listen: he’s in the fucking USA, your mother is with him, they’re busy, when’s the last time they called you this week? Plus it’s at Felix’s, it’s around the corner. It’s not going to be too crowded, you know almost everybody, it’s just a get-together of some sorts, to smoke and be fucking together or something.”_

_Donghyuck is still looking at him, a pained frown painted on his face._

_“Renjun.” He’s whining._

_“Ten minutes, if you don’t like it I’ll take you back home personally.”_

_It’s close, he could just run back home if anything goes wrong._

_“You can use my make-up.”_

_“Fine!” He’s totally annoyed now._

_Renjun is smiling widely and Donghyuck thinks he’s handsome, he smiles back before Renjun leaves him there running towards the other._

_“Guys I did it! No, Jisung, you and Chenle can’t come with us!”_

_What can possibly go wrong?_

17 October 2019

“Ten sounded pretty serious back at the cafeteria.”

The real Renjun manages to prevail and gain the upper hand after the cinematic platonic-love-couples historical excursus. Donghyuck nods, he was quiet scared after their conversation. Ten is very easy-going and it’s the first who always tell him to loosen up a bit and have fun, but what he says is never random, and Donghyuck thinks that he is going to be the most disappointed if he does what he planned. That is the main reason why not a single soul has to know about it.

“Yeah, about that.” Except Renjun.

“The dude cornered you right? Right after class, when you disappeared. He invited you over and you want to go, am i right?”

Donghyuck is a bit surprised, he nods again, but doesn’t look away. Renjun has always been wittier, faster.

“You want me to come with you.” It’s not even a question anymore, Renjun knows he’s right to his dismay and to Donghyuck’s delight he can’t refuse, because he wouldn’t let Donghyuck go alone.

“Please?”

Donghyuck doesn’t know if he’s doing the right thing, after all he trusts Ten and his words, and he doesn’t know the boy at all. But it’s his first time, it’s the first time he feels wanted. He knows that he’s being pretty naive right now, but he can’t waste the chance after all. He doesn’t look dangerous.

“Are you sure about this?”

Renjun looks worried, he cares too much about Donghyuck and he feels like he has to look after him, that he’s still very unexperienced to be sent alone.

“I’m not, but he said that it’s just him and his friends and I can’t find Ten there. Please I can’t tell anybody but you, I swear I won’t leave you alone.”

Renjun knows that it’s not true, that the moment they will set a foot inside that party he is going to lose Donghyuck and he will have to find fun by himself. But Donghyuck looks desperate to meet the boy and he cares too much about him to refuse.

“Okay, but if I see something strange we’ll leave.”

His tone is still serious while he says this, Donghyuck had been worried the whole evening because Renjun sometimes cares too much so it was very possible to get a no for an answer. They leave the cozy café and Donghyuck doesn’t waste a minute to hug his friend’s waist in a tight hug, leaving a quick kiss on his cheek. Renjun protests at first, but when the other mumbles a quiet and soft ‘thank you so so so much’ in the crook of his neck, he can’t help, but squeeze him too.

What Donghyuck has is not naive stubborness, or typical foolishness of someone who has high expectations, of someone who is used to have everything he wants, even things he shouldn’t have. He knows well that what Donghyuck has is the desire to have what he’s never had in almost twenty years, he doesn’t blame him, he can just trust him. To no avail he’s going to refuse and make him upset. And he hopes that desire won’t hurt him.

Donghyuck feels like he could tell Renjun anything and still be sure that he will keep it a secret. Renjun is the most reliable person he could ask for, even though he came late in Donghyuck’s life.

_15 Septmber 2015_

_It’s Donghyuck’s first day as a sophomore when he meets Renjun for the first time, or it would be if he attended school like the rest of his friends._

_Donghyuck and his twin sister, Seungyeon, are homeschooled, which means that they have to wake up extremely early like any other teenager, just to have an extremely quiet breakfast with his family, to have a total of eight classes per day ‘till four o’clock in the evening, and some additionals music classes just to make them so exhausted at the end of the day that they don’t even have the desire of going out and have fun; even if they were able to do that._

_To be honest, the worst part is not even the amount of homework, things to memorize for the next day, or even having to spend the entire day anchored to the same chair, next to his sister, without bickering, because they’re not even allowed to talk, unless they want to ask about the subject in concern or if they know the answer. The worst part is not breakfast either, during which nobody says a word, nobody looks at each other, it’s just Donghyuck looking at the rest of his family in silence, cringing at the sound of forks against porcelain plates, the only sound in the room apart from his mother’s sighs. The wrinkles on his father’s face deepening, the hair on his mother’s head whitening, his brothers growing by leaps and bounds, but nobody notices because they’re unaware, they look at their own plate in front of them, while Donghyuck scans them all with sad eyes, it’s not the worst part even if it hurts._

_The real, worst part of it all, is the stillness, the immobility, the monochromatic condition of seeing either black or white, no colors in between. He lives his life in a total staticity that owns his soul and his family’s ones, and it’s not a poetic one, but one made of boredom and no significant developments. He was born like this, he’s living like this and he will die in the same way. It’s also a false one, because it looks different from the others’ points of view, but it gets worse once you take a better look at it, you get in and you live with it for the rest of your life._

_In other words, Donghyuck is aware of the time he is wasting by living like this, and time is the only thing he’s afraid of, so far. Being helpless watching time passing in front of him, people getting old and a wasted youth spent watching others have fun, not being able to change your own destiny, because it’s written, it’s already there, and you can’t do anything but wait, this hurts the most._

_His first day as sophomore day is exactly identical to his freshman one, and he bets that the next ones aren’t going to change. The sole difference being the movie session with the orthers, in the evening, after all his classes and his singing lesson, the only thing he actually enjoys, which he can’t look forward to._

_That evening, when the boys come through the door of his room, there is an unfamiliar face: a tiny boy with dark hair, slendery almost, he’s wearing expensive clothes like all of them, and his face looks a bit lost when he meets Donghyuck’s eyes for the first time. His eyes are shiny to Donghyuck, like the rest of his face, and he looks slightly scared or embarassed. He’s shorter and smaller than Donghyuck, and even though Donghyuck is small himself, he knows that he wants to protect him at all costs, that seeing such precious being hurt, could hurt him too. It’s just an innocent, puerile thought._

_“This is Renjun, he’s from China.” He gets introduced by Jaemin, who’s smiling so widely to Donghyuck that the latter is starting to think this is a set up. Maybe it’s a smirk, because Jeno is smirking too when he glances at him._

_“Renjun, hi, I’m Donghyuck.” He tries to be polite, he doesn’t know how fluent the boy is in their language, he measures his words with caution, because he knows how much words can weight and how important first impressions are. He must be feeling out of his element, and Donghyuck just wants to make sure he’s confortable with him._

_“Hi Donghyuck.” When he speaks for the first time, his scared look desappears and it gets replaced by a confident one, perfect pronunciation. His voice is smooth and it startles Donghyuck. He might be small, but he knows what he’s doing. Donghyuck likes him already._

_“Jisung, Chenle, I want my fifty bucks.” Jaemin states proudly with a smirk, it was a set up in some ways, but he’s not complaining at all, and by the look of it Renjun doesn’ hate it either._

_Renjun was Donghyuck’s first crush, after all._

23 October 2019

Donghyuck wants to set the world on fire, not because he hates it or he’s already tired of it, because his real life has just started. The reason is pretty much superficial, he’s been thinking about the party since the moment the boy had told him, it’s been almost a week and that day looked so far, just a mere thought between classes and homework. Now that he’s in front of his mirror, looking at his reflection, the problem is not the choice of his clothes or something similar. Donghyuck wants to set the world on fire because Ten is calling him, the annoying ringtone echoes in his spacious room, but he doesn’t bulge.

He’s torn between answering his call, it could be an emergency after all, and just pressing the red button and avoid the thought of his words. Thinking about it Donghyuck wouldn’t be the first person Ten would call in an emergency, but he’s also the most reliable when it comes to phonecalls because he always answers, even at night, and Ten knows. 

He whines using his hands to shield his face by his own reflection that seems to start judging him, answer that call, Donghyuck.

“Yeah?” After taking his phone from his nightstand he answers in a heartbeat. He tries to sound more collected, and not conflicted about hanging up in seconds.

“What took you so long, you idiot?” his voice is muffled and robotic from the other side of the phone, but he doesn’t sound injured or having a panic attack, Donghyuck feels relieved.

“I was in the shower, I’m sorry.” Donghyuck is good at lying, but being polite with his older friends is not that forte, he hopes Ten won’t catch up his strange behavior, Ten is sly.

“You’re sorry, huh?” The tone is inquisitive.

“No, actually, not at all, not an inch of my body is sorry.” Donghyuck is in a corner.

“Okay, listen, you know it’s Kun’s birthday soon…” Donghyuck is so relieved that he can’t help but sigh, falling back on his bed with closed eyes.

“Ten, Kun’s birthday is in two months.” He’s smiling, he feels much more lighter.

-

Renjun is already waiting in his car, parked at the back of Donghyuck’s house, when the latter manages to run away from his mother. A bag on his shoulder, he states that he’s going to spend the night at Jaemin’s because they have a project due the next week and they’re _way,_ emphasizing the 'way', behind with the work. She doesn’t ask more, Donghyuck doesn’t let her.

“Hey.”

Renjun replies calmly. “Did your mom notice anything?” He’s eyeing him from his rearview mirror.

Donghyuck still lives with his parents, this implies that everytime he wants to go out, he still does it secretly. Hence he can’t go outside with make-up and nice clothes on without being sly.

Donghyuck, on, the back seats removes quickly the cap he was wearing to cover the simple line of eyeliner, he does the same with his hoodie while he fumbles with his bag. Once he finds what he was looking for, a simple, black, button-up with short sleeves, he tries to tuck it into his black jeans, the car jerks abruptly and his head slams in the window. He groans out loud.

“Renjun baby, I’m trying to look nice back here, please be gentle with that wheel, my gracious deer.” Renjun rolls his eyes, but obeys, putting less pressure on the accelerator, in order to slow down.

Donghyuck manages to tuck his shirt into his pants and to wear his belt, he hopes he hit the right loops. He’s nervous.

Once he’s done with his clothes, he hops into the front seat, next to Renjun.

“C’mon, don’t stain my baby with your dirty shoes.” An annoyed tone while he slaps Donghyuck’s thigh.

“Shut up or die.” The younger smirks. He reaches the stereo to find the right song, skipping at least seven Justin Bieber’s songs, it’s probably Jaemin’s playlist.

“Shut up or get off, I’m doing this for you, asshole.” Renjun is not looking at him, but he knows from his peripheral vision that Donghyuck is pouting at him, bottom lip out.

“Don’t make me feel bad about it, Jun.” He settles for a Brockhampton’s song, Jisung’s part of the playlist, as he sits back on his seat.

“You don’t have to pity me, I don’t mind.” He’s still not looking at Donghyuck, but he feels the latter staring, so eventually he does the same. Donghyuck has a thankful smile on his face, head back on his seat, Renjun smiles back.

“But if I won’t have fun, one chocolate pastry every morning before classes, for a week, no buts.” His voice is serious, but his face gives it away because he’s still smiling when he looks back at the street in front of him.

-

“Okay we’re here.” Donghyuck was so absorbed into the music that the car’s stereo was playing that he didn’t notice they were approaching their destination so quickly.

“Already?” His heart starts pounding faster in his chest while he eyes Renjun with a scared frown.

“Don’t be a fucking pussy, man up.” As said, Renjun can be harsh with his words, that doesn’t mean that Donghyuck is used to it.

“Let’s go back home, we can watch Kill Bill again.” The palms of his hands are sweating so he settles for putting them inside his pockets, but that doesn’t last long because as soon as Renjun mumbles an annoyed ‘shut up’ and he finds a good place to park his car, Donghyuck is retracting his hands back to adjust his hair.

Renjun turns the engine off and finally looks into the other’s direction, he sighs and places one hand on the younger’s thigh seeking his attention. Donghyuck does as asked, quietly looking at Renjun’s eyes again, and he finds a bit of peace. Renjun’s expression is so calm and relaxed that Donghyuck can’t help but feel relieved looking at him. He opens his mouth to thank him, but he gets shushed by the other.

“You look fine.” Renjun says as he fixes his light brown bangs, that cast on his sweet eyes, decorated with a subtle touch of eyeliner. It makes them look deeper, less childish. Renjun scans his face once again, he fixes the collar of his button up, and he smiles a little to encourage the younger.

“Let’s go.”

-

They don’t have to knock, the door is already open. The building looks like a frat-house, which should scare him, because he doesn’t trust frat boys, but it’s too late to withdraw. When they enter the house, it doesn’t seem too crowded, as the boy told him days before, but it’s not exactly what he was expecting.

He feels a bit out of his element walking through the unknown bodies, people he never met, no match for him and his crew. It looks different from the last one, not only for the lack of grinding bodies, there are tons of couples, but mostly for the type of people present. They don’t look like him and Renjun, he’s aware that their presence is not very subtle since everybody seems to have already noticed them.

Renjun doesn’t look nervous on the other hand, he’s holding Donghyuck’s hand tightly and he’s scanning the room, probably for someone he knows, but he has no luck.

“I know nobody here, let’s get something to drink before your boy catches you.” He whispers loud enough for Donghyuck and nobody else to hear him.

“He’s not my boy.”

“Sure.” Renjun is pulling the younger to what seems to be the kitchen, a little more crowded because that’s where the alochol is kept.

“So…” He grabs a couple of bottles of coloured liquids, a soda and two plastic cup. “Something sweet for you, my lighweight.” He mumbles pouring some peachy stuff into the cup, then a bit of soda and some ice cubes and gives it to Donghyuck with a smile. “And something very strong for me.” He fills half of the cup with something clear and straight. “Cheers to myself.” Then he gulps down the whole content without reacting.

They hear a ‘wow’ coming out of a boy’s mouth, seated on the kitchen stool with wide eyes. His eyes are so big that he looks like an animation, he's surely taller than both of them, even sitting, and larger in his sleeveless shirt. Big hands holding himself on the kitchen’s marble, his mouth slightly agape when he looks at Renjun with an interested face.

Before he can pull Renjun away from concerned boy, he feels a hand touching his shoulder from behind, he hopes it’s just someone who wants alcohol.

As he turns around, he’s not that surprised to see Mark’s face looking at him with careful eyes. Said eyes are slightly reddish, Donghyuck knows well what that means, but instead of commenting, he smiles, they’re too close.

“Hey.” His soft voice makes Mark smirk, he doesn’t reply.

“That –he points at the tall boy- is Lucas, Lucas can entertain your cute friend while I show you around, what do you think?” From the sound of his voice, Donghyuck can state that he’s already a little inhebriated, from alcohol or smoke Donghyuck doesn’t question.

Instead of replying he turns his gaze to Renjun, who looks like he’s thinking about the offer, making his eyes jump from Mark, who’s slowly leaning into Donghyuck’s side, then to Lucas, unaware of everything, confused, almost, then to Donghyuck. Renjun’s eyes scream 'be careful', and Donghyuck tries to assecure him with a nod, before the older one sighs and nods back. Donghyuck mouths a ‘thank you’, before the other one gives his attention to Lucas, quiet.

The vision of Renjun flirting would be funny, Donghyuck is smiling amused when Mark, humming, puts his hand on Donghyuck’s clothed hip, and pulls him away from his friend, not interested anymore.

“You came.” He speaks in a confident way, the corner of his lips lifted in a small smirk, while he makes his way through the mass of bodies moving and laughing.

“You knew I’d come.” Donghyuck is careful with the choice of his words.

“Yes.” Then the older giggle, and Donghyuck finds the sound amusing coming out of the boy’s mouth, must be the strange effect of what he smoked. Donghyuck wants to try whatever he's had.

They’re out of the crowded and warm room, Mark had pushed both of them far away where nobody could see them, and Donghyuck wonders what’s the point of a party if he’s going to pull him away from it. He doesn’t look for answers though, because being close, and alone, is what he wanted the most. That’s what he’s been thinking about lately, under the shower, doing homework, through annoying lessons and while he has lunch with his family. He thinks about touching Mark, but in a innocent way, he just wants to feel him close and feel the calmness and warmth he seeks, the closeness that gives him the right buzz, right enough that he feels pleasure, innocent pleasure. The pleasure that makes you sigh, not moan, maybe he’s just looking for affection, or love, but he’s not sure yet because he has never met Aphrodite in his life, nor someone who loved him right.

When he takes a look at his surrounding again, he’s extremely confused because Mark is no longer on his side, and he finds himself standing in the middle of a bathroom. Mark is locking the door closed, turning the key to his right a couple of times, then he sighs and walks toward the bathtub.

“No questions, it’s the only empty room in this fucking house.” He’s not looking at Donghyuck, he’s leaning onto the bathtub to open the large window upon it, then he enters the tub, and he sits comfortably against one of the corners.

Donghyuck is weirded out, or maybe just too sober to bear this, so he drowns his drink in a couple of gulps, cringes at the aftertaste and groans at the burning feeling down his throat and back. A light laugh makes him open his eyes again, Mark is looking at him from his bathtub, and Donghyuck is flustered by his own behavior, cheeks a shade of red again.

“Come here.” Familiar words. His voice is not scary, but his tone is demanding, and Donghyuck obeys walking towards him. He sets one foot inside the bathtub, ankle grabbed by Mark quickly to steady him, or maybe because he needs warmth too, Donghyuck is not sure. Then he places the other one putting his entire weight on the one Mark is holding. He regrets drinking his drink that fast, because the effect is so rapid he feels like falling, but Mark is holding both of his ankles now, eyes fixed on his face to control Donghyuck’s reaction, he feels stable again.

When he slowly sits opposite to Mark, back leaning on the icy marble, Mark’s legs are spread open, at each side of Donghyuck’s ones, the younger is starting to feel the pleasing warmth from the light touch. His hands are still placed on Donghyuck’s ankles for no reasons, or that’s what he thinks, because Mark seems to have a reason when he tightens the grip and he pulls Donghyuck closer, back leaving the marble behind him until he’s sitting exactly between Mark’s legs.

Donghyuck takes a deep breath, Mark is eyeing him from his spot, still pretty much spread on the bathtub. The younger doesn’t know what to do with his hands, and once Mark’s hands retreat from his ankles, he sits freely with crossed legs, between Mark’s ones. The older seems distracted, he’s no longer looking at him, but taking something out of the pockets of his cargos. He sets them on his lap, Donghyuck watching with curious eyes. Mark takes something that looks like a normal piece of paper to the younger, from a stack, then he takes Donghyuck’s hands, he opens his palms and flattens them, looking at him. He smiles when he notices the confused look. The younger doesn’t retreat his hands away, Mark just places the piece of paper unfolded on his palms, then empties the content of a small circular container onto it. It’s green, Donghyuck knows what that is, but he’s never seen it this close. Then the older takes out, from a small transparent bag, a little white soft thing Donghyuck can’t describe because he’s never seen it before, but it looks like cotton.

“Open your mouth, just a bit.”

Donghyuck obeys without asking why, too eager to watch the next move. The older places, with a careful hand, the soft filter between his bottom and upper lip.

“Don’t drop it.” He nods securing the soft object between his lips.

Mark takes what he’s placed on the younger’s hands, but doesn’t let Donghyuck move his hands yet, because he starts rolling quickly the paper in his own hands, then he takes the filter again, between his lips, meeting his eyes for a second. Mark is quick, he licks the paper, then closes as if he does this everyday, which it’s probable. Then he puts it in his mouth, he lights it up and takes a deep drag. It looks tempting between Mark’s lips. Donghyuck drops his hands on his own lap.

The smell is weird, but not unappealing. Donghyuck looks at the smoke coming out of the other’s lips with big eyes, while the older looks at his face inhaling deeply from his mouth.

“Do you want to try?”

Donghyuck tears his gaze away from the smoke and his lips to look directly into his eyes, everything appears so tempting to him right now, the smoke, his lips and the stick between them. He nods confident.

“Words.” The tone, this time, is a little different, still demanding like before, but he just wants to hear his voice, Donghyuck guesses.

“Yeah, I want to.” The older looks satisfied now, he leaves his confortable spot to straighten his back and move closer to Donghyuck between his legs. He grabs the stick with two experienced fingers and Donghyuck separates his lips when he sees him approaching his lips. He doesn’t take a deep drag, because the older doesn’t let him.

“Slow.” His voice is so low, almost a whisper.

The smoke burns inside Donghyuck’s lungs, it stings in is throat, but he doesn’t cough. He closes his eyes slowly letting the smoke out of his lungs, leaving the aftertaste on his tongue and his head spinning lightly.

When he opens his eyes again, Donghyuck is surprised to see Mark inches away, eyes so vigilant, mouth parted to exhale more smoke. Donghyuck smiles, not because he wants to, but because his brain is telling him to. It’s just a drag, yet he feels so lighter than before, maybe it’s because Mark is smiling back.

He doesn’t care about consequences as he places his hands on Mark’s thighs that surround him, Mark always makes him feel so safe, even now, when he’s doing something illegal, when he’s lied to his friends and his parents, he doesn’t feel scared, but protected, to the point of being relieved.

“Are you cold?” Donghyuck doesn’t notice he’s shaking until Mark points it out, he was so distracted by Mark’s warmth, and more drags from the stick.

“Maybe.” He’s not sure, he’s not lying, but Mark nods and smiles amused before taking off his hoodie.

Donghyuck doesn’t know what to think, he just stares at the boy’s milky arms he’s seen before, he has touched before. Then the older slides his hoodie on his head, he gestures him to raise his arms, and he does in order to let Mark slide the sleeves on them. He fixes it on his torso then looks back at him.

“Better?” Donghyuck nods.

 _Words._ “Yes, thank you.”

Donghyuck's hands are still placed on the other’s thighs, and he doesn’t plan on moving them. If Mark notices, he doesn’t say anything about it, but places his own hands on them, just to grab his wrists and pull him even closer. Donghyuck is almost sitting on his lap at his point, the warmth finally surrounding him. Then Mark places the younger’s hands on his own torso, upon his white shirt. The stick is still between his lips, and he leaves his hands just to grab it and offer it to Donghyuck.

“What did you tell your friends?” Donghyuck moves one hand only to take the blunt and inhale once, slowly.

“Study session.” Then he exhales. His tone so innocent that Mark laughs at him.

“Are you laughing at me?” He furrows his brows, but he doesn’t look intimidating as he wants.

“Nah, not at all.” But he is, because he laughs again saying this and Donghyuck shuts him placing the stick between his lips again. He doesn’t let go though, so Mark takes one drag, a quick one because it’s Donghyuck who moves it away this time, with a giggle.

Mark is not smiling anymore when Donghyuck retracts the stick again, to have just another drag. He does everything without looking away, he feels in a bubble he doesn’t want to leave. Mark is close to his face again, the younger’s hand on his own chest falls when he moves, but he’s quick to grab it before Donghyuck moves away.

He places it in his lap this time, then he proceeds to place both of his hands on Donghyuck’s hips, sliding inside is own hoodie and under the light button-up he’s wearing underneath. He caresses his naked hips, then travels up on his abdomen to reach his waist. Hands so soft a content sigh escapes Donghyuck lips, they’re moving even closer, blunt forgotten.

A knock on the door startles them both: It’s Lucas, and he sounds worried.

“Mark, I think your boy needs to go.”


	4. in hell there's heaven.

JWAC IIII

24 October 2019

  
  


Mornings in October are cold and quiet, dull with loss. Nature blushes red in front of changes but cries at the thought of fresh memories. It’s gold and scarlet, but messy. She whispers secrets with chilly winds, hair ruffled on top of everybody’s heads. She shakes ills that summer had buried, wakes them up until they hit you again; she’s impertinent. She can be wild, she doesn’t think twice before starting her insane metamorphosis. She’s also melancholic, adapting adagio for winter to break. The first leaf falling, head low, summer’s over, days are shorter, nights endless. It’s slow but brief. It’s adaptation before changes. She remains quiet, hurt.

With every leaf on the ground, unholy water washes brains, a memory gets lost in your mind between duties and new priorities. Crushed, forgotten for an indeterminate amount of time, until we need to remember. Mark doesn’t like to remember, he sticks to the changes with no complaints. 

Mark doesn’t mind chilly mornings, tranquility, and loneliness. The silence that dissipates peace, it almost feels like bliss now that stress is long gone, with sweat and summer rains. Even though sometimes it gives too much space to unwanted thoughts that Mark has to repress with all his will and power. 

Mornings in October are different, summer is far away but still close behind. There is no chirping outside or a clear sky. The latter is now dotted with heavy clouds, so grey they look angry, threatening. Perhaps they’re just sad, Mark finds them particularly sad during October: the sky seems ready to wash away what remains of summer. The rain is persistent, until nothing is left and we’re ready for winter. 

Summer is fast, a whirlwind of emotions that doesn’t last long. Kisses and fun, sun and touches. It runs away so quickly with autumn’s winds, it doesn’t wait for you. Summer is selfish.

Autumn is slow and dark. Nothing like summer or winter. It’s a limbo, torn between bright sun and icy snow. A limbo where time passes so slowly, a static feeling creeps down your spine until it possesses your brain and you just want to rest until it’s over, until there’s snow outside. It may be a temporary situation, an uncertain place. It’s not black or white, but grey and dim. It’s a lack of accuracy, clarity, stability. Autumn waits for you, with patience.

Mark doesn’t mind, because he despises summers and fears winters. He likes compromising. He jeopardizes stability and fulfillment to live on the edge, but safe. 

It’s six AM when Mark’s alarm goes off, and it’s cold.

Mark wants to rest, nap, wrapped in his duvet, but his alarm keeps playing an annoying sound. He quickly turns it off before rolling out of bed, he has responsibilities now. An exaggerated yawn leaves his mouth, it makes the corner of his lips stretch until they sting. Mark licks them with a dry tongue, only to find out how chapped they are. He should use lip balm, but that is not his first priority, chapped lips can wait. 

When his naked feet meet the cold parquet, a wave of chills spread on the entire surface of his bareback. He hisses grinding his teeth. Don’t they make parquet to keep the floor warmer?

He wears a pair of socks that he finds under the sheets, he has the habit of getting them off at night without noticing, it happens all the time. He wears the shirt of his pajama, also rolled in the duvet. He stands up with wobbly legs, still sleepy, and opens the door. 

He misses lazy mornings when he could just call in sick and sleep without feeling burdened. He misses warm mornings as a bright child full of hopes, his mother kissing his forehead, long fingers caressing his scalp until his stomach would make noises of hunger, then sweet breakfast under caring eyes. 

Fingers and lingering touches are what he likes to remember, cherry lips kissing his forehead before sleep, a soft and reassuring voice telling him that it’s just a nightmare, hugs from behind, arms around his tiny waist, comfortable in his bed. He remembers strong hands pinching his cheeks, proud smiles, thumbs up after a nice goal. He likes to remember noisy evenings, laughs, and familiar faces. Snow, friends, reassurance. 

He doesn’t like to go further, he prefers the nice, static limbo between happy memories and insane longing feeling. That’s the main reason he likes October, quiet and steady between sun and ice.

The sun is starting to peep outside with timid colors, clouds and darkness thinned with the first lights. Mark needs coffee before the tempting bed starts calling his name and he goes directly back to sleep, back to his favorite room in his intricate labyrinth of dreams, undiscovered maze, hidden pain.

The kitchen is pretty quiet this time, nobody is around to annoy him. The others are probably asleep, already out, doing early morning shifts, or having work to catch up on before Johnny finds out.

He sips his coffee without rushing, it’s warm against tongue, fairly bitter on his taste buds. Someone left the windows open again, the chilly wind that caresses his pale arms makes him shiver but wakes him up until his eyelids are not heavy. The cup, empty in his hands, doesn’t warm him up anymore. He needs a hot shower.

The funny thing about showering is that Mark enjoys the hot water, he enjoys the warmth all over his body, it’s soothing, and it calms him enough that his fingers don’t shake, his mind is empty. But he hates the feeling of his own hands traveling on his body, it may sound strange, but he doesn’t like his fingers stretching his skin, claws on fresh flesh, piece by piece. His hands are dirty with blood, like the men he despises the most. Yet he does just the same, for revenge, for peace. 

Just thinking about the lives he has destroyed, the blood that he has touched with his unholy hands, it makes Mark resent them, his own hands, and what he does for revenge, for them. Hands that slaughter and stab for love. 

He hates his own body, but he knows a pair of hands that don’t feel like claws on his flesh. Hands so pure that feel like petals, light like spring breezes, soft and gentle like his mother’s ones. Hands that lulled him until he forgot his real task, the purpose of those shared kisses, rosy cheeks, bright eyes, and lingering glances. 

Hands that made him feel something after so many years spent thinking that, maybe after all the blood he spread, he doesn’t deserve caring touches. But the boy’s hands were so gentle that Mark felt like he cared, just for a second, kissing him in the dim light. 

The more he thinks about his tiny hands, huggable waist, soft hair and kissable lips, the more he knows how at fault he is, how wrong he is to kiss the enemy and feel something doing it. He enjoyed playing with fire, even though he knows how dangerous it can be, even though he has burned himself so many times. But it burned just right, in his mind. 

  
  


-

  
  


Mark is used to the curious glances, eyes that follow him around campus, eyes that can see everywhere, omnipresent, pervasive. Mark feels them on his back all the time. He knows people have ears to listen, eyes to see, both to bother him and pester him around halls and classes. 

He knows people know his name, his reputation is not the greatest, but he doesn’t bother others, he doesn’t harass people. He tries to blend in, acts like them, fools around like them. 

He’s also unapproachable, he doesn’t look friendly, but that’s the whole point. He can try to be like them, but never be part of them. He doesn’t want to look like someone you can speak to just because you feel like it, just because oh, he looks friendly, let’s see if he wants to be friends and maybe go out tonight. 

He doesn’t need anybody else, he has everything he needs behind his back, keeping him steady on two feet until it’s over and he has his revenge. This is just the great alibi at the root of his plan, supporting columns for future peace.

  
  


“Dude, you look like total shit.” Lucas is always blunt, certain when he speaks, frank and outspoken when it comes to Mark, the latter just lets him be. 

Mark knows well how he looks, what others can see but he avoids. He’s sure he looks like ‘total shit’ every morning. It’s not something he can change or can control. It’s like a domino effect, once he starts looking bad, pieces follow behind and chase him, he’s going to look bad for weeks, until someone makes him notice and he tries to recollect himself, tries to look better, not for anyone, he doesn’t own anything to anybody. 

The truth is that he doesn’t care, he’s not concerned about the way he looks. It’s something trivial, futile, it doesn’t affect him. 

“Did I ask?” He sounds unimpressed, avoiding the other’s uncomfortable attention. 

Because Lucas is always caring towards him, a different type of affection. He doesn’t ask if he’s eaten or if he’s taking care of himself. He’s almost rude about it, but Mark doesn’t chase gentleness, he likes the way it sounds real.

“What is it? Is it about the boy?” They’re alone again, skipping one of the classes Mark doesn’t find interesting enough to spend time for. Lucas is taking slow drags from a hand-rolled cigarette. Mark can’t help but look at it, between the other’s fingers, it’s poorly made. He would have done it better. 

“What about him?” Mark knows exactly what Lucas means, the implications of his actions, what the younger is capable of, the thunder he can start just by saying his full name.

“If the boys find out, they’re gonna get his head, and yours just because you messed up. Then they’re gonna burn your bodies together and keep the heads as trophies on their nightstands. It’s dangerous Mark, _he_ ’s dangerous.” The way Lucas speaks, the way he moves closer, spelling his words slowly as if Mark is in first grade and he’s having problems with dictations. That irks Mark and he rolls his eyes pushing him away. 

“That’s exactly why they won’t find out. That’s the reason they can’t know who he is.” It’s Mark now who looks directly in his eyes, moving closer until there are only a few inches between them. Lucas may be taller, stronger, but Mark knows how to make him pliant under his gaze. He lingers there, eyes on eyes, trying to make the taller understand his point. 

“We’ve already had this conversation. He won’t cause trouble if nobody knows about him.” He moves away, eyes clearing with a lighter tone until his back is leaning on the wall behind him again. 

“If anything happens, and they find out, then I’ll kill two birds with one stone.” His face changes so quickly that it leaves Lucas confused. Mark is fully smirking and Lucas does the same at the sight. 

“But after the fun, hopefully.” Mark’s eyes light up until they resemble crescent moons. Lucas’ laughter makes him laugh too. 

“You’re insufferable.” The boy has a smug look on his face, full lips shape a satisfied smile. 

“As if I didn’t notice your face when I opened the door, dude what did you do to that poor guy? he looked wrecked.” There’s another stream of laughter before Lucas pushes him.

“Wrecked? we talked about pharmacy.” He speaks with false guileless, eyebrows raised, mouth open, and he looks so funny to Mark. 

“Shut up, you should be thanking me, you’re ungrateful!” Mark fakes a hurt look, staring at his friend’s unimpressed face until they both burst out laughing again. They laugh until their stomachs hurt, and it hasn’t happened in a while.

The faint sound of students flooding the gardens alerts them that it’s time to go. As they leave the hidden place, Mark doesn’t feel vacant, he feels warm for a moment, giggling with Lucas by his side, on his way to class. It’s a new feeling, emptiness doesn’t fill his eyes, but it’s brief. Something is changing, he feels it in the way he speaks with carelessness, the way he doesn’t move away when Lucas pushes him jokingly. 

Mark doesn’t like new emotions, unexplored sensations, he feels naked in front of changes. He’s weak in front of the unknown. Something is changing and Mark doesn’t like the way it feels, the blooming passion in his guts. He reprimes it, hides it, usual is safer.

-

Finding Donghyuck is pretty easy: the boy is always surrounded by his peers, young and jovial kids with loud voices and high ambitions. He’s a popular kid, as he should for his name and heritage. He’s always in crowded places, never hidden like him, he doesn’t have reasons to hide or be quiet. He speaks loudly, vanity gushing out his pretty round mouth, everybody is hanging from his words, inebriated by the way he speaks and maneuvers people, witty.

He’s also quite innocent, Mark knows those lips haven’t touched unholy objects, that the only things his hands have grabbed are money and power. He’s naive. But innocence has two faces, Donghyuck doesn’t reflect both. He might be a pure creature, but he’s not as innocent as Mark wants him and everybody sees him. He’s the son of sin. He was conceived by transgression and fault, sinful since day one. He was created with culpability engraved in his flesh. 

Mark feels alienated, far away from his reality, different, but with pride, although frightened for being out of his element. On the sidelines, marginalized, he doesn’t know how to approach him in his world. 

But, fortunately, he doesn’t have to ponder much, because the younger notices him, probably too visible, diverse to the naked eye.

When the younger comes close enough for them to talk privately, Mark has already hidden them both from his friends’ curious eyes, even though it seems like none of them cared, because Donghyuck is in front of him, smiling widely in the shadow. Mark feels in trance for a quick second, the younger too bright in front of him, Mark is still not used to the sight. 

They’re both quiet for a moment, both thinking about the right words to say, but exchanging glances full of unknown emotions. _What is he thinking about?_ They both wonder. 

“I wanted to check if you’d made it home safe the other night, but I realized I didn’t have your number.” It sounds smooth coming out of his mouth, lips shaped in a smug smirk. 

It’s easy to make the younger blush, his cheeks already changing shade from a light pink to an angry red in a second. They’re full, they look soft, and Mark’s hands itch to touch them, caress them with gentleness like he did the first night they met. The night they had no limit but felt burdened anyway, each of them by different types of burdens: Mark was kissing the enemy, Donghyuck was just kissing a boy. 

“Is this your way to ask for my number? You could have done it sooner.” He’s still blushing, but his voice sounds almost unaffected, blunt, and confident. He’s also smiling, showing a set of teeth so bright Mark can’t look away. 

“And ask you out. Your number, to ask you out.” Mark is good with words, every sentence that comes out of his mouth makes the other blush and smile wider, and to his delight, he gets devoured by the satisfying sight.

“Stop.” It comes out muffled because the younger is looking away and he’s trying to shade his mouth with his right hand, corners up in a shy smile he can’t reprime. 

Mark looks for his eyes smiling slightly. “Stop what?”

“Don’t act dumb, you know what I mean Mark lee.” 

“No, I don’t. Care to tell me?” He asks guilelessly.

Their eyes meet again, the younger drops his hand back to his side showing what remains of his smile. He stares at the older before speaking, finding words to describe his struggle. “You can’t be so shameless while I’m sober.” Mark chuckles truly amused by the straightforwardness. 

“I don’t want to flirt with you only when you’re drunk, or high, though.” He gets closer, one hand grabbing one of the loose laces hanging from the younger’s hoodie. “I like to see you flustered.” He pulls the lace with light force, just to get his total attention. “Your cheeks get so red I want to touch them.”

“You like them?” Donghyuck’s face is undecipherable, eyes big and glistening with the streets light, mouth agape with unspoken words, Mark stares and nods. 

The younger seems thoughtful, thinking about his next move. Mark can see the indecision in his shaky eyes, but he waits until he moves willingly. Donghyuck shifts closer, he moves his attention from the older’s gaze to his hand, still playing with the lace of his hoodie. One of the younger’s hand moves, so slowly under Mark’s attentive eyes, they follow him. It sets on the other’s hand, just to grab it, squeezes it with so much gentleness Mark almost can’t feel it. Then his grasp tightens, enough to move Mark’s hand in his own towards his face. They look at each other’s eyes at the same time, when the older understands what he’s trying to do and the younger seeks convalidation in the other’s gaze.

Mark’s hand is close enough for his cold fingertips to graze the smooth surface of his skin, it burns at the mere touch, the younger’s breath itches and Mark touch gets daring. Everything he does, everything he says, seems to affect the younger, whether the reaction is a fair blush or a shy smile. Mark’s eyes drink from such delightful sight, from the light in his eyes that he’s not used to seeing often in the people he hang around, it’s new. 

With safe moves, Mark’s hand caresses the full cheek, once directly on the soft flesh, once right under his eye, once on his strong jawline, tracing a path to reach the warm patch under his earlobe. They don’t stop looking at each other’s eyes, not even when Mark has enough confidence to cup the entire cheek, that fits his hand so well. They don’t stop, not even when the younger leans on the touch, irradiating more warmth against Mark’s skin, they lose connection just for a second, when Donghyuck is relaxed enough to close his eyes and pull the hand even closer. 

They seek each other’s touch, the asphyxiant closeness that heats their whole bodies on fire, it’s mutual. It seems like both of them need comfort, proximity to warm the cold suburbs of their persona. Mark’s hands hollow only for Donghyuck’s cheeks to fulfill. They complete each other’s absence, their missing pieces.

They’re not intoxicated by any substance this time, but the younger’s eyes look heavy with blissful sleep, Mark inhales deeply and slowly. 

Donghyuck’s legs start feeling the weakness, and he finds comfort in leaning his shoulder and clothed back on the wall behind him, Mark following until he’s right in front of him. 

“You look pretty.” By the look on the younger’s innocent face, he didn’t want to say those words, but they escaped his lips without thinking. His voice sounds affected this time, low and breathy. Warm against Mark’s skin, his hand not cold anymore. 

Nobody has ever called him pretty, but it doesn’t sound wrong with his voice. It feels just right, it sounds perfect for Mark’s ears to hear. 

“If you could only look at yourself.” Mark’s voice echoes right in front of him, it dissipates happiness in the other’s face, lips morphing in a smile. His smile sends shivers and waves of unknown heat to Mark.

“But I like what I’m looking at.” Donghyuck smiles brightly, his hand leaving the other’s one to approach Mark. 

Duty and comfort are dueling in his soul: Duty has willpower, he’s strong and armed, Comfort is sweet, he tries to melt Duty’s anger away with gentleness, without fighting. 

Donghyuck doesn’t care about thinking, or that what it looks like by the quickness of his moves, when he places both hands on the older’s chest with confidence. Mark’s empty hand finds a comfortable place on the wall, right next to the younger’s head, the other moves slowly from his cheeks to the back of his head, where he plays softly with the short hair. Donghyuck hums in satisfaction. 

“Give me your phone.” Mark nods and moves his hands to look for his phone inside the pockets of his jeans. He digs it out from the back pocket and gives it to the younger, who grabs it with both hands. 

Mark’s hands settle on the wall behind the younger, at each side of his hips, but without touching. When Donghyuck manages to unlock the phone at the first attempt, typing 1234 on the keyboard, Mark inhales sharply, embarrassed. While the other turns to look at him with an amused smirk on his face. “Classic.”

“Shut up.” The younger chuckles then gets back to the phone, Mark following his every move. He types his phone quickly, then saves it under ‘Donghyuck<3’ sure that the older is reading. 

It’s the first time he uses his real name, and Mark thinks that he’s slowly starting to trust him. 

“Donghyuck, huh?” He asks curiously, even though he already knew his name, but the younger doesn’t have to know that. 

Donghyuck hums then moves the hand holding the phone on Mark’s clothed body, until it slides right inside the older’s back pocket, hand lingering to secure the phone inside. His hand moves back slowly, from the inside of the pocket to the small of Mark’s back, his hips, until it settles back on his chest. 

They can’t stop looking at each other, the younger smiles when Mark furrows his brows. Mark likes touching, he loves feeling the hot skin under his hands, but he’s still not used to new hands touching his body, Donghyuck isn’t that daring usually and Mark doesn’t know if he feels completely satisfied or if he prefers dominance. 

“Haechan is just a nickname they gave me back in high school.” Mark nods, he knows already. 

“How should I call you though? Which one do you prefer?” The younger’s hands are both back on his chest, playing with a hem of his shirt. 

“My friends call me Hyuck.” His soft tone is back. “Hyuck?” Mark has heard it before, the younger nods. 

“But it’s up to you, which one do you like?”

“Are we friends?” The younger looks slightly taken aback by the question. 

“If you want to.” It’s a shy whisper, Mark definitively prefers dominance, mostly because he gets to hear him whisper with embarrassment, blush hard.

“Then Hyuck.” The younger gives in easily to the urge of smiling. “I’ll call you Hyuck.” Donghyuck hums again, Mark likes the way it rolls out of his lips with so much easiness. 

Backing away from the warmth is what he despises the most, getting back to reality, that’s why he does it without hurrying, slowly, until the younger’s hands drop from his chest, back to his own sides. “Call me soon.” Donghyuck smiles, but it almost sounds like a confident command. 

Mark nods, they part. Mark has never felt like this, he doesn’t like the way everything is changing, he didn’t ask for this. Duty and Comfort are still dueling inside him, he feels the way one of them is becoming weaker and weaker as time goes by, while the other gets drunk and giddy from his weakness. Comfort is sweet and gentle, but he’s not innocent, he fights to win, victory is his only purpose. Mark can’t let him win without fighting. 

-

_25 December 2007._

_Mark is a cheerful child, he loves his mom and admires his dad. He wants to be exactly like him when he grows up, he wants to help people. Because he loves how he feels when his mom smiles so softly after he eats well, sleeps early, and doesn’t wine. He loves when his father says that he’s so proud of him, that makes him so impatient to grow up even more, to show his dad how proud he can make him. How strong he can get, how smart he can become. He likes so much when his parents are happy and even more when he’s the reason why._

_He loves soccer and his neighbors Chan and Minho, they’re so good at this sport, but Mark does his best to keep the pace. They’re Mark’s only friends because, even though he’s caring and so sweet, he’s also a very shy child. Back in Vancouver, having friends wasn’t that difficult, but he blames the language barrier. He’s only eight, but his mom always says that he’s very smart and that with practice he’ll get so much better at Korean and the difficult words will stop rolling his tongue in his mouth. He will have so many friends he can share his passions with, play soccer, and create new memories._

_Moving from Canada was difficult, because not only he had to leave his friends behind, but everything was extremely new when he arrived, the only reassurance being his parents. Every day he thinks back to when he was there. Having his friends so close, not worrying about making new ones. Canada is cold, but it was a bonus point for him. Skipping classes with his parents to play in the snow was his favorite thing back then. He didn’t mind cold feet, back pain, or stuffy nose because he was happy. Mark is happy in Korea, but the new environment is quite scary. The new language, the loneliness, and the memories that can’t be revived, not even with the pictures hung to the wall or imagination. Seoul is big and chaotic, not many trees to play around or grass to lay on. The skyscrapers are high like they were in Vancouver, but he misses the nature and the quietness of it. But after all, he’s happy because it’s for his parents and he has to help them._

_He loves helping people so much that when his grandmother asks him what his dream job is, he replies every time in a different way. He knows there are so many types of heroes in this world, his father keeps telling him that real heroes aren’t the ones from his pile of comics, heroes that fly or have superpowers. But the ones that help you daily. He could be a fireman, a doctor or even a policeman to keep the bad guys out of the streets. His heroes are his parents: his mother with her long black hair, so soft when he plays with them at night, those nights he can’t sleep and searches warmth in her embrace, so sweet and caring. And his father, so strong that it makes Mark feel so safe when he’s with him, so funny when they tease mommy together until she laughs with them._

_Mark always prays because his mother always tells him that when he’s afraid at night, when everything seems so dark and he can’t escape his scary thoughts, he can ask God to help him. He prays in the morning so grateful for his life, before eating because he knows he’s very lucky to have a roof, a family and food to consume, and at night, before sleeping, to sleep peacefully. He prays for his mother, his father, his grandma and Chan, and Minho, for everybody he knows and doesn’t know._

_Mark is a cheerful child with a loving family, he prays so hard for his future._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to add that what child Mark thinks, the whole heroes-monologue, is not what I think. It’s just words from a 8y/o child, in case anybody finds anything offensive. 
> 
> ^-^ please tell me what you think!
> 
> [twt](https://mobile.twitter.com/subliqr)


	5. Two grams when the sun rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not beta read. 
> 
> TW: anxiety, panic attack. 
> 
> please tell me what you think.

30 October 2019

Mark feels restless, even nauseous, mostly anxious. Sometimes, before sleeping, when the day has come to an end, and he is lying comfortably in his bed, wrapped in his candid and warm sheets. When the adrenaline vanishes into thin air, disperses and dissipates throughout the suburbs of his body, fingertips shaking, muscles twitching, head pounding; that’s when anguish and distress hit. 

It’s almost an involuntary process, Mark knows exactly when it’s going to start. That’s exactly the moment when everything is quiet and finally he can think, he can hear himself rumbling in his own head. He could use the time to meditate, relax before hitting the REM state where he can’t dominate his thoughts anymore. 

But instead, his mind goes blank for a moment, empty, then abruptly it reloads, it starts again like an old engine, with a loud bang, sending chills across his chest. He loses touch with reality again, being aware only of own body and how unfamiliar. 

Mark shakes before sleeping, it happens when he tries to relax. He blames the adrenaline, the tiredness of the day. Until it hits his chest and he can’t blame assignments and work anymore, he blames his own thoughts because that’s exactly how anxiety works. 

Mark starts feeling and hearing his blood passing through his ears, boiling hot. He can see his chest dropping and rising through two layers of clothing. Everything seems to move following the rhythm of his heart beat, too fast, vision blurry.

He has learned how to distinguish anxiety from any other emotions, but with pain and fear accompanying him, each of them sitting so comfortably on each shoulder; smirks on their smug faces. 

He knows that it starts slowly, and it can be easily triggered. It takes any sudden loud noise for his heart to go berserk. At first, Mark thinks positively, it’s just a noise, after all. He inhales deeply as they taught him: four seconds, a pause, four seconds. But he already knows it’s useless. 

Maybe it’s what anxiety needs to create the right environment and atmosphere to settle down: resignation. Mark gives up and anxiety steps on the accelerator. Mark is stupid because he could do something, anything to stop it, but he’s weak, he has always been weak, so he resigns himself to the sentence and anxiety has green lights and a loud, furiously fast car. The pain in his chest is so sharp it feels like a long needles that penetrates the wall of his weak heart. 

He strips quickly, but his arms are weak and his breath his unsteady, sharp and shallow. His heart pound and Mark can hear nothing but the multiple loud and too fast thumps in his chest, his ears, the tips of his fingers. His whole body throbs in anxiety, he can’t tame it. 

It’s always been resignation, Mark gives up every time there is something he can’t do, or he has never done. That’s why he despises hard tasks, that’s why he is a weak kid. Existential pioneer of his decade, where kids are so wrapped up in their own consciousness to see reality.

Taeyong says that it happens because he’s not as unaffected as he thinks he is, it happens because he can still  _ feel _ . Feeling anything is better than nothing, even if the feeling hurts and Mark feels like dying, because at least he can  _ feel something. _

Somebody said that kids resemble more their times than their fathers, and he gets it. Times get darker, kids feel worse. But thinking this way, it’s easy to desacralize his own society, depersonalize humans. People become copies of abstract summaries, seeking shallowness to be like the others, there’s no way to stand out. It’s counterproductive, self-defeating, destructive.

He needs a safer place to stand out on his own, maybe a safer place where he doesn’t overthink and blame others, a microcosm, a personalized ecosystem, where he exists alone, he doesn’t  _ coexist _ .

Being alone is okay for Mark, it’s safe, mostly because he doesn’t like surprises, he despises being surprised. And humans bring the unexpected. 

Think it this way: Mark is a man who lives alone, has lived alone for his entire life, he has never seen someone like him, just himself, and he doesn’t complain. He lives quietly and survives without the need and desire of having company because he’s not used to it. But one day, a normal day, same as yesterday, not different from tomorrow, that exact day, someone knocks at the door. 

Mark considers just avoiding the door, ignore it, be coy, but another part of him considers opening the door despite not knowing what the door is hiding. It could hide something so terrible, something that could hurt him and put an end to his quiet days, but it could be something lovely, with rosy cheeks and smooth skin to touch, something with tousled hair, indomitable like his behavior. 

Should he avoid, or live for the moment instead? He doesn’t have a purpose alone, space is limiting him and time is corroding him, should he fall in temptation? Or live as he has always done? Maybe he just needs something to soften his anguish, but no need to think about it, Mark gives up for another restless night, time to get up and force his heart to beat normally. 

  
  
  


Someone is occupying his safe nocturne place, and he considers leaving and finding another room, but loud voices draw his attention. 

“He’s worrying me, lately.” Taeyong’s worried voice, the one reserved solely for him, that voice Mark loathes because it makes him feel weaker than he actually is.

Mark leaves the door ajar, one hand on the knob, his body completely hidden in the dark corridor, but close enough to listen to what they’re saying without being noticed. 

“Maybe he needs to rest.” Johnny is there, he is always there to assure Taeyong when Mark gives him reasons to be worried. Johnny never tries to change Mark as Taeyong does, he just accepts him, maybe he just doesn’t care. 

“Have you seen him?” Someone sighs and Mark moves enough to see Johnny’s hands reaching Taeyong’s shoulders, that’s the only thing he can see from his hidden spot. “He doesn’t sleep, he thinks I don’t notice him waking up every night, I’m surprised he’s not here yet.”

“There’s not much we can do, you know he doesn’t like when we worry, mostly if it’s you.” Johnny’s tone is so soft Mark thinks he has never heard him speak this way, it’s soothing even for Mark, far away and eavesdropping.

“What about those pills they gave him?” Another voice, it’s Yuta, but Mark can’t see him. 

“He doesn’t want them, he said something about remain lucid to study better, I can’t blame him.” Taeyong replies, Yuta hums.

“I want to help him.” Taeyong’s voice has become almost a whisper, Mark almost considers leaving again not wanting to see him cry for him, Mark doesn’t need pity. 

“He doesn’t need our help, you know exactly what he needs and we can’t give it to him.” Johnny is good with his words, especially when it comes to Taeyong and his stubbornness. “But I want to!” Taeyong replies so abruptly and with so much fierce that Mark gets startled, he grips the door with his bony fingers.

Johnny’s hands move from Taeyong’s back and the room is completely quiet for a moment, Mark can almost hear them breathing, someone eating in the corner, the clock hanging on the wall, ticking lightly in the background. It remembers Mark of the time he’s wasting listening to bullshit. 

“You don’t know what I feel when I look at him, I-” Taeyong sighs again, Mark inhales slowly enough to calm his spinning head. “I don’t want him to hurt, he doesn’t deserve this” His own hands reach his face, he scrapes his cheeks, Mark feels guilty at the sight. “He could have everything, but instead he has us, and we’re doing nothing to help him.” Mark feels his nails deep in his own palm, it hurts but he tighten the grip. “If I could only change the way he sees everything, the way he despises everything, if I could open his eyes...I don’t want to let him down.” 

Mark remembers Taeyong telling him to change his taste buds, move them in order to distinguish gold from dirt, what’s good and what’s not, what he should hate and what he should appreciate. Change the way he sees the world, leave revenge behind to win against his enemies that just want him brain dead. 

“It’s hard to look at him and know that he feels like that all the time, he doesn’t deserve it.” He’s rumbling at this point, Mark feels the anger arising from his guts. “I just want to see him happy sometimes.”

Mark had asked him ‘what is good’ in response, and Taeyong didn’t have an answer at that time. 

Mark knew well what was gold and what was dirt, what was worth it and what he had to avoid. But he was also sure that what he considered good wasn’t what Taeyong deemed wise. They simply had different opinion, a different past, or, as Taeyong liked to say, different taste buds. 

  
  


“I think he just needs release.” It’s a sleepy Jungwoo, and Mark thinks he has heard enough. 

His hand grips the knob tighter and he enters the bright room with knitted brows and an annoyed frown, Taeyong is the protagonist in his mind, his eyes can’t see anything but him.

  
  
  


Silence dissipates in the small room once again as Mark fixates his eyes on Taeyong’s worried ones, he doesn’t leave his body but he’s sure the other boys’ faces reflect the latter’s one, the face of someone caught red-handed. 

“So” Mark begins as he gets closer to the older boy, he can see in his peripheral vision Johnny moving to reach Taeyong, possessive hands on his arm. Mark knows Johnny senses something in the air and his tired face morphes so quickly into a frown. He’s defensive, neglected anger towards the younger is conserved in him waiting to be freed. “Were you talking about me?” 

“We-” Jungwoo tries, but Mark gets quicker to shut him up: “And you shut up or your mouth is the one I’ll fuck since ‘I just need release’.” He spits with a tone filled with venom, mocking his voice as he repeats the older’s words. It’s not the first time he gets so defensive, they’re all used to it at this point. 

Jungwoo’s lips morph in a surprised ‘o’, and Yuta, on the floor, munching on some chips, laughs out loud. “As if he wouldn’t like it.” 

“Shut up you’re annoying.” Jungwoo whines and rolls his eyes while Yuta sends him a guileless look.

  
  


Mark is not amused at all, and Taeyong seems to have lost the capacity to speak, the two keep looking at each other, but both silent. Mark can almost touch the tension in the air, drawing lines between his own bodies and Taeyong’s one. It leaves lingering traces that lead him to inch closer. 

These constant desires of hurting someone cause him to think of strange, intricate schemes in his mind and he looks pensieve to strangers’ eyes, but Taeyong knows exactly what he’s thinking about from the look of it, because he moves his hand to grasp Johnny’s hand on his own arm. He shouldn’t be afraid, because Mark is just a kid and he’s surrounded by taller and stronger bodies that could stop Mark, protect him. Yet Mark’s eyes frighten him and his first instinct is to shield himself behind Johnny’s body, but ashamed of being afraid of him. 

Mark hasn’t spoken a word yet, but he guesses he doesn’t have to, looking at the older’s reaction. He tears his eyes off Taeyong in order for them to roam around the room, to look at Johnny’s mad frown, to Yuta’s startled face and Jungwoo’s worried pout. 

“Mark.” It takes Mark a second to look at Taeyong again, voice low as if he was trying to assure him that nobody wants to hurt him, but it’s Mark that craves it.

Everybody moves with attentive steps, Taeyong leaves Johnny’s side to approach Mark. He moves so slowly that Mark feels like a grenade, everyone seems so careful around him as if he could explode at any moment, hurting everybody around him. 

Taeyong’s hand moves and in a second it’s wrapped around Mark’s arm, it’s cold and Mark shivers. “We can talk about this alone, right?” 

Mark looks at him for a moment before answering, face as static as it was when he was just listening to his words minutes prior, hidden behind the door. “I think I have nothing to tell you. Not today.” He speaks with slowness and a low tone ”not tomorrow” But Taeyong is not oblivious and as soon as he listen to those few words, he knows that Mark won’t talk with him anymore, not like he used to, not about what he feels and fears. “not ever.” And Taeyong understands, he doesn’t blame him, he has lost his precious trust.

Mark feels betrayed, Taeyong is hurt and he looks on the verge of crying. They share a mutually hurt look, but Mark doesn’t want to see him cry and he leaves before it happens, knowing he’s hurting the only person he used to trust, the only person that didn’t dare to hurt him, until now. 

-

Donghyuck receives a call that night, he panics at first, being so late,he can only expect bad news. He wasn’t sleeping, but about to. His mind was slowly drifting into a trance, his muscles sore and head hurting for the exhaustion of the day. 

The sound of his ringtone makes him jolt with a spasm, his phone screen is too bright for his eyes in the complete darkness of the room. He blinks quickly to readjust to the brightness and grabs his phone placed on his night stand, on his left. 

The first thing he notices is that it’s extremely late, almost three in the morning, and for his heavily full schedule, he should be already sleeping, or focusing in class will be tough. To say he has a short attention span is putting it mildly, he needs his eight hours of sleep. 

But when his eyes land on the name of the caller, he gasps out loud: Mark is calling him, at 3 in the morning. His mouth opens while his eyes widen comically at the sight. 

His phone slips from his sweaty hands while his mind tries to find a reason why Mark would call him at this hour, or call him in general. But nothing seems to work. 

He can’t be calling for homework, they don’t even share classes. He can’t be calling because he needs help either, can he? 

An alarm rings in his head and the bloodiest scenarios play in his mind, he shakes his head to focus on the real matter: Mark is calling him. 

Maybe he dialed the wrong number, but his phone has been ringing for a while now, he would have noticed. 

Maybe he just wants to talk with him. Mark is calling him at 3 AM because he wants to chat, because he can’t sleep. The more he repeats those words in his head, the more they sound silly. 

Hanging up would be impolite, it would mean texting him some stupid excuses in the morning or stopping him at school to say sorry, and Donghyuck can’t do that. 

He slaps his face twice to regain consciousness, grabs his phone again, with both hands for stability. He inhales and exhales deeply before sliding his index finger on the screen, and he brings the phone to his left ear, the cold surface against his hot skin making him shiver lightly.

None of them dare speak at first, but Donghyuck can faintly make out the sound of the older’s breath through the microphone. 

Donghyuck opens his mouth to say something, anything to get out of the embarrassing and weird situation, but the other is faster: “Hyu- eh, Donghyuck?” 

His voice sounds extremely sleepy and hoarse, even lower than normal and Donghyuck’s mouth remains open at the sound. The gears in his brain working so fast to create an answer, but he just stares in the dark in front of him in silence. 

“Donghyuck? are you there?” 

This time his mind seems to have came up with something, and he speaks before he notices. 

“Mark? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He croaks with an high toned pitch, his voice barely comes out and he’s sure he sounds sleepy and silly, like his own voice in his head. 

There’s a chuckle on the other side of the phone, Mark chuckles lightly hearing the worried tone. He imagines the younger’s forehead adorned with deep worry lines that he could smooth up with his fingers, a sweet caress in between his brows on the silky and tanned skin, if only he was in front of him. 

“Are you laughing Mark lee? Okay, I’m gonna hang up.” Donghyuck’s tone sounds offended, but the younger is actually entertained and so amused hearing the sweet sound of his laughter. 

The older laughs once again, this time louder for Donghyuck to fully hear it from its start to its end. The sound making the corners of his mouth itch until a sweet smile replaces the previous worried frown. 

“Mark Lee” Donghyuck says his name slowly and with a soft tone, almost savouring the syllables while the slip out of his plump, swollen lips. “Are you okay there?” He asks with the gentlest voice, the younger doesn’t want to scare him away. 

Calling at 3AM means that something is wrong, that the older has something in his mind that is bugging him and he can’t sleep. Donghyuck reputes late night calls as important and necessary as hugs in a relationship, but they’re just friends. And just thinking about the older struggling in the middle of the night, sweated and shaky, rolled in his duvet, a frown on his face, and Donghyuck being his first thought in a situation like this, makes him smile like a middle schooler in love. 

“Lee Donghyuck.” His voice sounds even more sleepy than before, Donghyuck wonders if he’s smiling as wide as he is, or if he’s frowning, upset, if he needs reassurance and tender words to get back to sleep. “Tell me something.” 

Donghyuck takes a long breath, he messes with his hair, already messy from the short period of sleep before the call, and wets his dry lips with the tip of his tongue.

“Like what?” 

“Like anything.” 

Donghyuck doesn’t want to upset him, he has spent numerous restless nights and he knows how it feels to be sleepy, but not being able to sleep. He knows how words can calm him down, that humans need words, sweet whispers, soft talk, to feel protected, even loved. 

When anxiety hits him, Jaemin is the first one that comes to his mind for sweet late night talks. He could call Renjun, but he knows how he treasures his eight hours of sleep. Also Jaemin’s voice has always been calming, so soothing and reassuring, capable of putting him to sleep with three sweet, real and comforting words. 

Donghyuck can’t tell Mark he loves him, because it’s not true. They’re still strangers and that wouldn’t work. Mark is a tough guy, Donghyuck can see that nobody can melt him down with words, he can tell by how he seeks physical contact. Mark likes to touch him, and Donghyuck lets him, because he can see how much it soothes him. Donghyuck is not blind, everybody can states Mark is troubled. 

His desire and neediness for warmth shows how cold he feels, how alone he thinks he is. Donghyuck doesn’t think he can help him, he wants it. 

He hums, loud enough to make the older hear that he understood, that he’s just thinking. Donghyuck stands up slowly from his messy bed and walks towards the large windows, shut closed to keep the room as warm as possible. 

He sits on the floor with a sigh, and places both of his elbows on the edge of the window, his face gets squished between the phone held in his left hand and his right hand pressed against his cheek. 

It’s late and moon is just a slice of faint white light, but bright enough to shine on the stars that surround it and the tall trees outside of his window. Donghyuck can see the leaves shaking under a light night breeze, he shivers at the cold thought while closing his eyes slowly. 

“Do you like the sea?” That sounded better in his head, but the other chuckles again and hums positively to give him the green light, let him go on.

“I think the sea is great, no, I think I like the ocean more. Sometimes I wish I could float alone in the middle of the ocean, my ears needs to be underwater though. Do you know those muffled sounds that you can hear when your head is underwater? The feeling of not knowing what is causing them, because you’re not moving, but something underneath you is, but you prefer not turning back, it’s better if you hear them, but can’t see them. Do they scare you?”

Donghyuck gives the other time to think in complete silence. Seconds have passed when the other replies: “They do.” And the younger hums back. 

“It’s normal, you know? Being afraid of the unknown is something we all felt through our lives. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, it’s instinct. We are used to knowledge, we have so many questions right? Some of those questions don’t even have an answer yet, but we are so impatient to know what the worlds hide. But what if we don’t like it then? What if we spend our whole life waiting for these answers, just to get disappointed when we have them? Isn’t the unknown better? Isn’t it better, turning your back to the ocean and imagine the enormous and majestic creatures behind us? Instead of face them and being disappointed when they’re mere beings?”

“But it’s like living in a lie.” The older replies quickly, his voice is still low and the pace slow, but the younger can distinguish interest in it. “In my… Sometimes I run in my dreams, because something tells me to do it, but I don’t turn back to see what is it, who is it.” He sighs and Donghyuck hears him mormour something to himself before continuing, he’s insecure. “I feel like it would stop, If I knew what it was and why it’s chasing me.” 

“But that’s the unknown that is exciting your ardor, it’s drawing or in your case chasing you, because you’re clearly afraid of it, why don’t you just be bold and run towards it and not from it?”

“I am bold.”

“I know you are.” 

“Then what?” He snaps this time, the younger can feel the discomfort in his voice. 

“Then change it.” 

“Change what?”

“The way you see it.” 

“But I can’t see it, how should I change what I can’t see?” Donghycuk feels like a nuisance, but Mark sounds like an impatient kid. The younger lets the silence envelopes them for a moment, giving the other the time to cool off before explaining himself.

“When…” His voice is too sleepy and low, his eyes sting with exhaustion and he clears his throat to start again. “When I was nine, I had recurrent nightmares, it was a constant occurrence, and it was always on time. Every night, around three.” He pauses and the older hums. “I used to dream about a younger me in an amusement park, it starts well: there are all my friends, we’re having fun, there is this light music that I can’t recognize and it’s comfortable, but the melody restarts every time all over again and after a while it becomes annoying, it almost hurts my ears. I remember, at some point, I open my eyes and I’m completely alone, my friends gone, the lights too, it looks like the sun has set and it’s night, it happens too fast. The music sounds like whatever was playing it gets abruptly old, and the melody gets creepy. 

“I remember the smell of rotten food and old rusty metal, almost like blood, and the amusement park looks like one of those abandoned one, where kids sneak into to have fun at night, but I’m alone and I’m not having fun. There are shadows, but they move too quickly for me to make out who they are. It looks like some kind of distorted reality built up by my own mind. Provocation takes over, and everything triggers me.

“I used to have anxiety problems because my parents were getting divorced and I was too young to accept it, I wanted them together and happy like I used to see them, but it was impossible, so I started feeling bad. 

“When I told my mom about it, she told me that it was my youth, that somebody was taking my youth away from me too early. I wanted to blame her, but I couldn’t, I wasn’t that selfish I just wanted my parents happy. 

“But she couldn’t leave us, you know? things work different in my house, under my father’s roof, eating with his money. She just bottled up everything and started avoiding me and my sister like the plague and everything changed, my life got twisted upside down because I wanted my mom, but my mom didn’t want me, she chose silence instead.

“I remember my nightmares got worse and at some point I asked my sister to sleep with me, but it didn’t work, so I thought that maybe I was the problem, nobody was taking my youth away like my mom told me, because if someone had done something like that she would have been the only one to blame, but she was family, I couldn’t blame her, or my father.

“So I blamed myself, but I wasn’t angry you know? I just noticed something was wrong with me, with the way i was dealing with my life, I was just a child, but I knew something was off. And I also knew that I was the only one that could fix it.”

He pauses again, already out of breath for the speed of his speech. He speaks too fast when he’s nervous, and the thought of the older boy listening to him on the other side of the screen makes him extremely nervous and jittery.

“One night, before sleeping, I even prayed, thinking God would help me, but it never happened and after a while I started thinking that maybe I was the only one that could save myself. I was sleep deprived, my dad didn’t notice though, I was alone, my mom didn’t want us to talk to her, my sister wasn’t alright either. 

“I noticed, that one night, how my mind was always full of dark thoughts, that I didn’t want to play, have fun anymore, like someone really took my youth away, but I wanted it back, it was too early to mature that way. 

“I forced myself to change everything, change my way of thinking. I wanted that park to be bright and full of happiness again, I didn’t want to waste my days thinking that, maybe, afterall, that’s what maturing means, being an adult, having responsibilities and not having time to play anymore.

“But I had all the time in the world to play, and I wanted to heal, to think straight again because I knew it wasn’t late to fight that weight on my shoulders. It’s never too late you know Mark? we’re still young and we have plenty of time to mature.”

Donghyuck hopes with all his heart that he isn’t crossing the other’s boundaries talking with this carefreeness. His forehead is completely sweated, and his elbows, placed on the window, are numb and shaking under the weight of his body, sending waves of pain through his fingers. 

He gets up on his bony legs, that being crushed under his body for so long, were as numb as his elbows. And he stumbles as he walks towards his bed again to sit on it comfortably. He can hear the other inhaling and exhaling deeply, and he almost believes that he fell asleep with his boring flow of consciousness. But he knows he’s wide awake, listening to his every words with attentive ears: Mark’s eyes are eagles’ eyes, and his hearing is as sharp as an obsidian blade. 

“Do you know that it’s never too late to fix things?” He addresses him directly, eventually, with a tone as soft as cotton, but he’s not hoping for a positive response.

Mark is not speaking yet, the younger imagines him once again, thinking about his question and a good way to reply without being too harsh. Donghyuck knows how he tries to restrain himself every time they meet, with words and movements. 

“I’m not notorious for giving people who have wronged me a second chance.” Mark speaks slowly, his tone is so low that it almost sounds like a growl, and Donghyuck is embarrassed by the sudden flush of warmth on his cheeks and the back of his neck. He thanks god that there’s a screen and several kilometers between them or the older would have called out the pink shade of shyness on his face. 

“You need to be forgiving sometimes to get better.” Donghyuck croaks out.

“I don’t need to forgive, forgetting might be the best option.”

“But not the only one.” 

“Not the only one.” Mark repeats his words and Donghyuck can feel some malice in the way his voice sounds. 

Donghyuck is almost afraid to go further “What’s the second option?” 

There’s silence for what seems like an eternity to Donghyuck, the older keeping his mouth shut, obviously torn between revealing his desires and hide them for a little longer. “Clearly, revenge.”

Donghyuck wishes he’d never asked him, the blush on his cheeks is gone and the smile threatening to bloom on his lips is nowhere to be seen. Fear grows in his guts and preoccupation fills his throat, he almost feels like vomiting. 

“Revenge can cause blood and more pain, is that what you want?” His voice trembles and he hopes the older doesn’t notice the hesitation in his tone. 

“I’m used to blood.” Mark is so confident when he speaks, so sure in what he’s saying and Donghyuck believes him. He believes that the other is used to pain and being hurt, his eyes don’t sparkle unless he’s inebriated by substances or aroused by someone. He believes he has seen blood and death, that someone has hurt him so bad to wound his soul, not just his body. And now he’s just too vulnerable admitting it out loud, Donghyuck feels guilty.

“Blood brings more blood, it won’t make you feel better.” 

Mark sighs and moves on his bed, the younger can clearly hear the sound of the sheets and the older getting up, probably tired of his words. “It’s late, Donghyuck.”

“No, wait.” Donghycuk stops him quickly, his voice maybe too loud for the situation. “Wait” He repeats himself with a lower tone and the other replies with an absent hum. 

“I thought about the future.” He bites his lower lip and grabs his own wrist to stabilize the phone near his mouth afraid to make it drop, the older could hang up on him at any time. “When the nightmares got worse and nobody could help me I started thinking about my future. I started thinking about what I wanted for my future and I had to get a hold of myself because everything you do now, reflects your future, every actions have consequences. “

The other is quiet again, no sighs or sheets moving. “The only plans I have involve taking you out tomorrow, I’ll pick you up at eight, don’t make me wait.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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